Frankfurt is a clusterf*** of all-day meetings, bad food, no water (because no bathroom breaks), amazing team dinners, late nights in smoky bars, and jetlag. It is fun, it is intense, and I am always very glad it is over. I inevitably come home with a cold, and usually laryngitis as well. This year I have armed myself with Throat Coat tea (though not a humidifier, a tactic I’ve used in years past), a relaxing weekend in Rome beforehand, and a giant bottle of melatonin. I am hoping that their forces combined will keep me healthy and minimally exhausted.
Given that Mike is just back in town, and October in San Francisco is glorious, I wouldn’t mind if the book fair were in, say, January. But please don’t think I’m complaining – I’m not. I’m super excited, though I do feel like I only just caught my breath. My mom left Saturday evening, after a few days of redecorating, wine drinking, and bluegrass-watching.
I dropped her off at the airport and drove directly up north, to Pt. Reyes, to meet friends at a birthday house rental. I got there late, and I left early, but I got to spend time with wonderful people I don’t see all that often, and woke up to this view.
Vegging has been the name of the game the last few nights, but all that comes to an end now. On the agenda for tonight: packing.