All most of last week and the week before was a rollercoaster of fever. While 100.9F isn’t much of a threat, when you’re post op (a term, apparently not just used for transsexuals), it can mean there is something seriously wrong with you. The doctor told me most people who go through appendicitis normally form an abscess after surgery. Crap, that means I have to go back to the hospital to get that drained. He gave me a paper which said I needed to get a CT scan – he ordered one from whichever place I go to, is basically what it said – but then told me that if I hit 101 degree fever to just go the emergency room so I don’t have to pay up front. Fine. I had my plan, go during the weekend as to not inconvenience anyone. That plan fell through when the fevers left me as quickly as they came. Now I’m completely normal.
Friday, I almost stayed in but Jyg didn’t go out with her friends after all, so we went to JCPenny’s to search for the elusive sunglasses. JcPenny’s, however, doesn’t have any sunglasses so that trip proved fruitless. After walking towards other stores, I started to feel weak, so we went back to the car. We wound up at Hastings afterward because at least I get to rest there. While there, I found a used copy of Francine Prose’s Reading Like a Writer: A Guide for People Who Love Books and for Those Who Want to Write Them. Penniless that I am, Jyg purchased the book for me as a gift. We came back home afterward and I started to feel really sleepy. After a while, Jyg went home and I fell asleep.
Saturday was pretty much eventless. I just sat around, catching up on my reading because I have yet to finish The Silmarillion. Sunday, on the other hand, gave me something to do. El Senor, after having his operation done Friday, decided that he needed to get out of his home and hang out with someone who wasn’t related to him – this meant me and we would go to Cuppy’s Coffee for yet another session of our talking out loud and bothering other costumers who are sitting there with their laptops, purposely looking as if they’re writing the next great American novel. We talked books. We talked sugeries. We talked about what we’re writing – me, a short story/novella and him, his thesis. Afterwards, we went over to CompUSA because he has become the victim of his children – they lost two of his USB drives. He saw some he liked, but vowed to buy them in the morning because he only brought enough money for the coffee.
After that, I learned that he has moved from La Villa to Edinburg. This guy’s now more in walking distance than before. After offering me to tag along on a family road trip – which I passed because I couldn’t fathom the idea of being anywhere near his daughter who suggested that I looked forty the last time we talked – we go to his place. He has some reading material that he bought for me during the summer, a book by Paul Ruffin, Islands, Women, and God. I also manage to borrow The Chicago Manual of Style and swiped Two-Up by Eric Miles Williamson, a professor at UTPA. We go to Juniors to pay a bill he had and then he dropped me off.
One thing that I failed to mention is that he also offered me a job. Not with his business, which is manual labor and while I’m all up for it, my body isn’t. Instead a friend of his is looking for people with Bachelors to teach courses to the community. My job offer? To help others find jobs. I swear, that saying is true: Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach. It’ll be a bilingual class, but at least I’ll have a translator because my on the spot Spanish sucks ass.