I had set my alarm for 7:30 am to be sure that I was dressed and packed by 9 am so David could carry my suitcase up the stairs to the driveway where he put it in the garage. He gave me the garage door opener so I could get it out when the Lyft driver arrived.
I carried everything of theirs and mine over to the house except the suitcase that I left on the bed for David. After David went to work, Karin came downstairs, still not dressed for work. She was running late. She said she could do that periodically, especially when she wasn't feeling well.
I settled in at the dining room table with my soup to do some work on my computer, just the updates. I was freezing; it was cold in the house, particularly after I drank some cold water.
I was all packed up and ready to go at 3 pm when my alarm went off. I ordered a Lyft. Then I called him to tell him to pull into the driveway on the side street instead of the front of the house, which is only used for delivering packages.
It took much longer 45 minutes to get to the airport instead of 30. Delta has this email check-in. I ordered the boarding pass for my phone; unfortunately, I had no idea how to access it. Fortunately, I had no problems getting a paper one from the kiosk. I had my walking sticks out, but I wasn't using them. I hate to think about how I must've looked; I had two attendants ask me if I wanted a wheelchair. I took it.
It was a good thing I did. The security line was long and slow. Besides not making it on time, I think it would have been hard to stand that long. While my back is much better, it is still not 100%. I didn't feel I could count on it to hold on me up as I snaked through the line. To boot, when I got to the gate, I discovered that the flight was at 5:03 pm, not 5:30. I got a sweet at Starbucks and had a short wait before boarding. My seatmate helped me put my luggage in the overhead bin. Damon had ordered comfort seats for me. I would never have done that for myself. He is sweet.
When I arrived at the San Francisco airport, I ordered a Lyft. The airport parking lot has been reconfigured to accommodate the rideshare business. The driver had an unusual name. When I asked him the origin, he told me it was a Spanish translation of a Hebrew name. I asked him if he was Sephardic. He had no idea what I was talking about. He wasn't Jewish.
He told me he was writing a script; I told him I was writing a book. He asked me for the plot. I told him my book was about how to teach reading. He told me that he had an auditory processing problem. When we arrived at Shivani's house, I did the basic steps of BrainManagementSkills; I showed him where the auditory working memory while standing in her driveway. Given his difficulty following my instructions, I suspect there were other problems galore. What I had to offer wasn't going to fix much of anything.
Shivani fed me some dinner, including a cupcake from Whole Foods. Then I went to bed. This was a bed I had never shared with Mike. We slept once in her house, but it was one night in her bed after leaving her at a vacation house of her friend's on the Russian River. Mike and I caught an airplane home the next day.
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