We’re at a hotel in Morgan Hill, one step up from our usual cheap ass hotel. The room is small but clean, and the bed is comfy.
I was up in the night, of course, and I saw a weird spider walking around at 2am–big roundish body like a black widow, but light brown. Long, thin legs. It creeped me out. I was worried it somehow was a black widow missing some pigment.
Ming tried to catch it. “Don’t let it bite you!” I said. He flushed it down the toilet. Sorry, God’s creature.
There’s no bathroom fan. The room feels very humid from Ming’s long shower.
We have a full day planned, and I’m worried I’ll lose my strength and need a rest but nowhere to retreat to: Hotel breakfast, I go to a library while Ming visits with his mom, picking up books at someone’s house in Oakland, lunch at my favorite place, visiting a zine friend at her bakery, then Ming sees one of his kids while I sit at a cafe somewhere, writing. Then on to Sacramento.
Even on a good day, this would be incredible, but I don’t have all my strength. I asked Ming if he thought I’d still be anemic, five months after being released from the hospital. He said he thought it’d take three.
“My throat hurts,” I said. “I wine a lot, for someone who doesn’t drink.”
Ming’s going to wear his trilobite necklace with a trilobite teeshirt. “How edgy!” I said.
“That’s how I like to be perceived,” he said. I was giving him fashion advice since he’s seeing his relatives and wants to impress them.
