Berlin, 8.12.00 Time, time, time. Where does it go? Work, home, baby, sleep. Work, home, baby, sleep. And another week vanishes. I feel the occasional stirring of creative juices, but time and energy are scarce resources. (I really need to do something with this web site, but I think it will have to wait until January, when I should have some serious free time.) Actually I do have eight quiet hours every day in the office, but sometimes I must work, and quite often I'm too tired for creative slacking. I just stare rather glassy-eyed at the screen or wall. We had a couple of sub-optimal nights at the beginning of the week so I brought a yoga mat in one morning, hoping that I could sleep under my desk at lunch, in the manner of George Castanza. It takes practice, unfortunately; it's difficult to relax at first. Then over the past few nights Madeleine has been gratifyingly comatose and my energy level has slowly, over the course of several days, recovered. Last weekend was a complete write-off. I was gone for eighteen hours on Friday, flying to X early in the morning for meetings then returning late at night. Quite exhausting. I wasn't entirely over my cold, and the stress of the trip set me back a few days. Then Saturday night the little dear stayed up until five, so all we did Sunday was sleep, most of the day. At sundown we met friends for a trip to the Christmas market at the Opernpalais on Unter den Linden. We've traditionally gone out to Spandau for the big Weihnachtsmarkt, but Unter den Linden is pretty good, small and relatively tasteful. No training. No exercise, despite yet another beautiful late fall day. The weather has been glorious, nothing at all like the grey misery we've come to expect from a Berlin winter. The baby continues to thrive. She's growing at an alarming rate. I keep telling Annette not to feed her if she doesn't want her to continue expanding, but that's not thought to be a viable solution to the problem. Madeleine is slowly becoming more interesting and entertaining; at six weeks she's now about halfway between a houseplant and a cat on the interactivity scale. As ever, I continue to mock and abuse. As ever, I cross certain lines with Annette. Mother was not amused the other day when, during a brief bout of intense yowling, I said "She's got Mad Baby Disease. Hear that popping noise? It's the little Swiss cheese holes opening up in her brain. Must hurt like hell, judging by the look on her face." (Context: yet another BSE scare in Germany.) Annette said this was a very disturbing image. If I can cease making reference to mutilation and death, I may at least be able to do other morbid and odd things, like dangle rubber rats, spiders and snakes from a mobile above the bed, rather than the bright and cuddly objects traditionally inflicted upon infants. Is there a Goth toy shop online? I'd love to find an eyeball rattle. The cat is also doing well. A bit lethargic but this is normal for the onset of winter. Otherwise, she's in ripping form. Next Monday, in just over a week, we are flying back to Vancouver. God I hope this goes smoothly. Only one connection in Amsterdam, so it won't be the longest trip. I'll be home for twelve days over Christmas. I'm not entirely looking forward to it. It will be nice to see Vancouver (and many of its residents) for the first time in sixteen months, and a couple weeks off work ain't too bad either, but I have a feeling it's going to be a hectic round of visits and baby viewings, in addition to the normal festive obligations. And I am not enthused about Christmas shopping. I'm returning to Berlin at about four o'clock on New Years' Eve, at which point I may attempt to go out, though not before taking a good nap. Then I will have January more or less to myself, with only the cat to contend with. (I will be able to work out every bloody evening if I want to! Skating, weights, cycling, the works.) Annette is staying on an extra month for job interviews and, doubtless, additional grandparental face time. Nothing is settled yet, but there's a good chance of an interview with schools in Vancouver and Ottawa. She only applied for a handful of American jobs, in Boston and New York City, as the rest of the offerings this year were in places we'd not particularly care to live. Having faced the prospect of rural Ohio once already, we decided we'd rather not be confronted with that sort of decision again. If she lands one of the Canadian jobs we'll move back at the end of the summer; if not, then it's another year in Berlin. (The US jobs are million-to-one shots, but when Harvard or Columbia are looking for junior faculty, one is really obliged to apply.) I'm quite content to stay longer in Germany, with the possible qualification that I'm not hugely thrilled by the prospect of continuing to work full time, nine to five, in an office. But there's no other way unless she were to find some additional research funding. At the very least I would need to stay with the embassy until September, after which point I'd qualify for an unrestricted work permit and could do some freelancing. Lunch break will soon be over. I must eat.