Sometimes I get Frankeneye (bloodshot) if I've been reading or knitting too long. Eye drops can exacerbate it. I noticed it in the bathroom mirror before Hairspray. Fortunately, I'm done with the short-sleeved sweater, which was soft and fuzzy, which makes for poor stitch definition, which makes you strain your eyes. So the condition seems to be gone.
Today I was in Whole Foods and a little distracted, since I'd been reading a book in line. The cashier was unusually cheerful and smiled at me broadly. On autopilot, I said, "Thanks!" Apparently she thought I said, "How are you?" because she replied, "Great, thanks, and you?" At which point I said, "Good, how are you?" not realizing that she thought I already said "How are you?" She just chuckled, though.
On the way home from the market, I saw a woman from my building who could be 85, but is always done up immaculately. I think of her as Zsa Zsa Gabor. Her white hair is carefully waved, she wears coordinating top-and-skirt sets (often sleeveless) and her orthopedic shoes have little heels on them.
The one disturbing thing: her husband is always a half a block behind her. It's like a reversal of Muslim tradition.