Mozart and Algernon

That's right, I'm a fucking idiot for shelling out five G's so my eye doctor can get richer. I just found out that my world class eye surgeon, who's been shamelessly flirting with me (he called me "Cat Woman" one time when I came in in an all-black outfit and he makes frequent references to the fact that I go clubbing [which, incidentally, I rarely do]) makes a shitload of money.

It was in an old Chronicle article about top-paid academics, and he was #4 for medical professors and #1 for opthamologists, coming in at $2.1M several years ago. I reacted to this information with surprise and my competitive side took over. Three, four, five million a year - Whatever! I could make way more than that if I really wanted to. Chump change!

My right eye, which is 3.5 weeks out of surgery, is actually seeing slightly worse than my left eye, which is only 1.5 weeks out. My left eye is a fucking prodigy! I am therefore naming it Mozart, while my other eye, Algernon, is stuck in special ed.

What's funny is sometimes I forget if I put my drops in or not, so, as my co-worker joked, maybe I'm putting them in like 10 times a day when I should only be doing it 4x. Ha! And you know what else: while I still see blurry, it's a million times better than my previous vision, so I almost don't notice that I am seeing blurry. I was a -7.5 and -7.25. Yeah, I know.

Saturday was gorgeous! Absolutely gorgeous. A welcome respite from the steady downpour we've been having lately (not that I minded; I do truly love the rain). It was a day like the one pictured above, which was taken almost a year ago. Went trail running, shooting, driving around in the hills at warp speed, and played a couple songs at a pizza joint in Fremont with this bluegrass band that's adopted me. To quote a wise saying: When in doubt, be grateful.

Another one from Rounders: If you can't figure out who's the sucker at the poker table after 30 minutes, you're the sucker.