dust to dust

One of the last things I recall from last night was seeing what I thought was the silouette outline of my optic nerve or some other part of my eye. When the lights went out I had a clear impression of what looked a bit like a skinny millipede, or similar, stretched from the outer edge of my right eye towards the middle, roughly in line with where my blind spot it. I'd been looking at the white ceiling, then out go the lights and viola! Quite a distinct outline, small frond things dangling around the edges, the image dulling as I got used to the dark. Of course I may be talking bollocks, but it certainly seemed like that was what I was seeing - or sensing.

And so to today and being awoken at 06:00ish by the Chad, currently in the US and having time zone issues. I will forgive him as he was calling to see how we could arrange getting me the US police issue Camelbak Transformer - robot in disguise! - backpack. Very excited about that. As I was up and had the Skype phone on I gave Dad a quick call. Just a high-and-goodbye to make sure he is OK and let him know that all is OK here. He's a reader of this (hola padre) so he kinda knows what is happening anyway, but it's good to hear his voice every now and then.

What can I not say about work that I've not said before? Pretty much everything and that is that. One difference today is that Darren, who sits to my left, has his radio on and we are listening to commentary of the first day of the Ashes. As I type Ponting is 5 runs from his century and England are having an average day. But not a bad one. Could end as a bad one if we don't get another couple of wickets. Other news of the day is that my eye seems to be getting better; possibly due to the dilation going away now I have stopped using the drops. Or maybe it is getting better? I sense less blurriness. Some, yes, and a bit of a blind spot across the middle of the right, but not as bad as last week. I can work quite comfortably without glasses today and I can read large but does-not-have-to-be-huge letters with the right eye. The blind spot is pissing me off a bit. My eyes were good enough at lunch time to see a dog wearing doggles while hanging it's head over the side of a convertible volvo it's owner/keeper/whatever was driving through the City. If I'd had to pick a car for the sort of person who would buy doggles for their hound I would probably have picked a convertible Volvo or a Jaguar Estate; something that is probably very nice, but soooo unnecessary. There is an opening for a venting on that one - cars that manufacturers need not have produced - but I'll let it go. For now.

Oh, Ponting now has his century. Harrumph.

My back seems to be getting better more quickly than I thought it would. And that pleases me. So I feel good about recovering well from things that I don't think I should be suffering from in the first place. Maybe this feeling good is a reduction in feeling bad. Same thing? You decide.