I promised myself I'd stop writing "normal" entries in this journal soon, but I'm not quite ready to move on yet. (If this continues I'll have to replace the title graphic with an image of building cranes – the Berlin skyline – as one reader suggested some months ago.) And an entry is probably the only way to get myself moving today. At least the shops are now open until four on Saturdays, not two, so I can delay the inevitable weekend grocery trip for a few hours. We are no longer subject to the tyranny of the the Ladenschlußgesetz [shop-closing laws]. It was much worse in '95 – now it's almost civilized.

Also I wanted to write early in the day, while I could still see the monitor. It is almost too bright in here in the late afternoon. We're on the top (fifth) floor with a bank of south-facing windows. On a clear autumn day the sun is blinding. It's lovely, but difficult to work. When I open the door into the hallway there are floor-to-ceiling windows looking over the Hof [courtyard] and an enormous tree in full fall colour. (Vita has enjoyed a few short hall excursions, though yesterday's attempt to introduce her to the neighbour's beast, Moritz, was judged a failure: neither cat expressed any interest in passing beyond the threshold.) Last night I sat in the window watching the sun setting over the rooftops. Like Vancouver, it's really quite beautiful here when it's not grey and wet.

I didn't rise until after ten this morning. My back was bothering me last night so I took a pill for it, some type of generic pain-killer and muscle relaxant, which always knocks me out. Annette disappeared a little after eight, on her way to the conference; the cat and I continued our morning slumber. Soon I shall put away the breakfast dishes, tidy a few things, shop, ride for a couple of hours, then try to finish off the computer before Annette returns some time after nightfall.

Oh, the blessed computer. Things have gone smoothly this time round, but I'm being very careful with all the installations. There are a few curious display issues that I'm putting down to normal NT-hardware idiosyncrasies, though nothing too severe beyond that. The most irritating problem thus far is the refusal of Personal Web Server 4.0 to operate in a purely offline mode: it doesn't want to resolve the machine name or the supposedly generic offline IP address, 127.0.0.1, so I can't view local sites, or even the IIS documentation, without first connecting to berlin.de by modem. NT isn't at its best without a network connection, I know, but this should work a little better. (Anybody out there have any ideas? Should I just say fuck it and load Windows 98, or is it fixable?) This is somewhat critical for any web development work I want to do in future, as I can't afford a day-long dial-up connection with evil Telekom's extortionate, monopolistic local calling rates.

Otherwise, I've been reading I Will Bear Witness, up to the end of 1937 now. It's a wonderful book. I sympathize with Klemperer's domestic predicament. Though I am obviously free from persecution, I do understand straightened financial circumstances, the pressure to maintain appearances, the difficulties of writing and above all the crushing inertia of unstructured time. And also the importance of a good cat.

So Annette is officially Dr. Annette, or rather Frau Doktor Annette for the duration of her stay here. The defence went very smoothly, almost anticlimactic. Then she dashed off to the airport and flew home. I met her on Thursday afternoon at Tegel – two hours late, after her flight from Paris was delayed for reasons known only to the French – then we were immediately busy meeting a friend for dinner and heading off to the season's first Thursday Stammtisch [regular meeting in a bar or café – in this case it's a group of American students, and the venue changes from week to week]. How she stayed awake I don't know. She was off to a conference first thing the next morning.

She won't be Dr. Annette officially until the end of the semester, but convention allows her to use the title informally from now on. The prevailing emotion is one of relief, that one of the last hurdles is behind her. The project is a long way from over: she has to make revisions to the dissertation before mailing it to the university in November, then she has to add a few sections before it is published as a book in a year's time. But she's now in the final stages of this eight-year process. Next up, the job search.

Annette's parents are absolutely over the moon, and have made firm plans to attend the graduation in Chicago. Annette will fly back for this, though she probably won't continue on to Vancouver for Christmas. I've been invited as well, but I'm not sure if I want to go. Late December is not the best time to visit Chicago, and it would break my perfect record of never having attended any form of graduation ceremony since high school (and even that was coerced). More importantly, I suspect that I would find it depressing. I'm tremendously proud of Annette, of course, but watching her receive the Ph.D. would only throw my own failures into starker relief. Already, as we've celebrated her accomplishment, I've felt that creeping sensation of jealousy mixed with self-loathing. It's not good.

I'm becoming very aware of the passage of time. We've been here four weeks now and I don't feel that I've done much. Certainly we've been busy with all the administrative nonsense that moving to Germany entails, the apartment-hopping was less than ideal, the various computer problems delayed working, and of course our lives have been on hold while Annette copes with various academic commitments, but I could have been a little more productive. We've done no sight-seeing to speak of, though that will soon change, as Annette is about to embark on a few weeks of well-earned relaxation.

My "retirement" is not without it's dangers, I realize. I was glad to leave full-time work behind, but without that structure I can easily slip into apathy and inertia. If I'm not careful, twelve months will pass in the blink of an eye, and all I will have done is shop, clean the kitchen and write emails to friends and family. I don't want that to happen. So I need to impose a little order, rise a little earlier in the mornings, set aside some times for working and writing.

Here's what I need to do before the end of this month:

• study a little bit of German every day
• finish setting up the computer as a web-development environment
• complete a better portfolio site and German-style CV
• begin working my way through the giant ASP book that Annette brought back from Chicago
• work on any freelance jobs that come in, and hustle more
• investigate the possibilities of working for German companies (there are endless, though not exactly unwelcome, delays with the company that I've been talking to)
• create the successor to this journal
• begin some "real" writing – narrow down the subject, structure my time a little more effectively

I certainly have enough to keep myself busy. The question is whether I can find the energy and the enthusiasm to pull it off, or whether I will slip into an easy, semi-comatose Hausfrau existence.

It's one o'clock in the afternoon. Time to get off my ass and do something. Shopping, cleaning, the inevitable ride in the Grunewald. There's cycling on Eurosport at 15:30 but I can't be bothered to prevail upon friends, as it's only the season's final world cup race and I'll be watching track racing live for five days next week.

This two-day conference is a bit tiresome. Annette is home, but she's not really home. She hasn't even had time to unpack. We want to spend some time together, relax and enjoy the city finally, but it will have to wait for another day.

My weight is still low, though I'm in that critical post-season weight gain phase. Annette bought me a pair of 33" waist jeans in Chicago, which I now fit again after several years of 34" (my old jeans are hopelessly baggy). I will use these pants as a benchmark – I must always be comfortable in them.