This past weekend started out right–really. Saturday morning, I had everything ready for the book signing in Tyler, Texas at the beautiful Caffé Tazza Italian coffee shop with my fellow East Texas writers (Patty Wiseman and Bobbie Shafer are in the picture), and was just counting down before time to leave. The drive was beautiful, along divided highway 69 with its crepe myrtles in full bloom between north- and south-bound lanes. Traffic was tolerable. At least until I got into Tyler. I’d forgotten it was “tax-free” weekend, and I had to sit through every single red light along S. Broadway–some of them twice! Instead of being thirty minutes early, as planned, I barely made it in time.
But I did. Everyone was there, Patty, Bobbie, Lynn Hobbs, Eddie Hancock–a group of writers with books to sell. We take a lot of pictures at these signings, something I would’ve gladly done if I’d remembered to charge my cell phone. It wound up spending the afternoon in my car, charging off the battery. No biggie, though. The ladies always post their pics on Facebook, so I could–and did–steal them from there.
I treated myself to an iced mocha latte or whatever–I still don’t know how to order in those fancy coffee places–and settled in to chat with customers and my writer friends. That’s one of the best parts of these book signings I’ve been involved with. Exchanging ideas with fellow authors, keeping up with each other’s goals and frustrations. It’s great.
But before long, my energy disappeared, swirled down the drain as surely as if someone had pulled the plug. I tried to ignore how I was feeling, but soon, one of the ladies told me I looked pale. That was followed with an order for a ham sandwich I couldn’t finish, and soon a curtain call as I decided to leave about an hour and a half before the signing was over. I ate just enough of the sandwich to give me energy to get home. I got here around 6:30, and went to bed at 7.
MSB and I had been looking forward to Sunday all week–a quick trip to Bryan to see the kids and sweet GK Amelia. We haven’t seen our grandkid since May and have been suffering withdrawals. But when I woke up Sunday morning, I was still feeling fatigued. I thought a good, protein-packed breakfast would boost me, but it didn’t and thirty minutes after breakfast, I needed a nap. I slept until lunch, managed to make us some sandwiches, then slept off and on all afternoon. I thought I was feeling better in the evening. I made a DiGornio pizza for MSB and a bowl of oatmeal for myself and settled in to watch Tombstone on AMC. Stayed awake for the entire movie, then went to the bedroom at eight to watch a couple of girl shows I know MSB wouldn’t like, and fell asleep within ten minutes.
This morning, I woke up at three, which didn’t bother me at first. I thought whatever had zapped me was gone, and I’d just over-rested from the weekend. Didn’t need any more sleep. Today is Monday, and I don’t have time to be sick. I went through my emails, fiddled around on Facebook, formatted the interview with William Landay on AuthorCulture for Wednesday, and started writing this post. Now it’s 5:30, and I’m exhausted.
Looks like I’m in for a long day. But it started off right.