Relaxing is not a word I would apply to yesterday. First, AJ was as slow as humanly possible yesterday morning, making me insane. I was convinced we were going to be late to school for the first time ever, thus making me a terrible parent and setting him squarely on the road to high-school-drop-out-hood. (I was NOT overreacting. Not I!). I sprinted out of his classroom to my car and headed to the bookstore to pick up my book for tonight�s meeting. After getting out of my car, someone pulled in behind me and hit my car hard enough to roll it forward several inches. Fortunately, there was no damage visible and the poor elderly man responsible for the bump was clearly shaken and very apologetic. But the adrenaline was pumping.

Then, after I got home and posted to diaryland, I picked up my e-mail and discovered a message informing me that teaching applications were due today not tomorrow as originally posted. The message was mailed May 5, but didn�t arrive until this morning. I banged out a cover letter and updated my CV in nothing flat and e-mailed them to my chair. It�s not the best I�ve ever written, but it�s not the worst either. And I�m not really sure if I have a chance at a job, as I�ve already taught there (albeit nearly �gulp � EIGHT years ago) so they may want to give someone else a shot instead. In any case, though, I was feeling quite proud of myself for my speediness, but the narrow escape had my heart pumping again.

I looked at the clock. 11:15. I was supposed to be at school to pick up AJ. Lucky I have my snazzy red track shoes on (Did I just say "snazzy?" Am I turning into my grandmother?). They seem to give me superhuman powers. I ran to school and got there before AJ had a chance to notice I was late and whisked him home to play and feed him lunch. While in the middle of lunch, I got a call from the place where AJ and I have been doing playgroups for the last couple of years. They want me to teach music classes to kids age 6 months (!) to 4 years. Despite the fact that I would be about the most ridiculously overqualified (and therefore underqualified where it counts, I think) preschool music teacher in history, I am considering it because it might be fun. I also find the possibility of teaching both preschoolers and university students at the same time rather entertaining. I think I can predict who�ll be paying more attention. And this would be a hell of a lot less work than the average crappy adjunct faculty job. Which I would happily accept anyhow, by the way, in case anyone�s asking. The conversation about the music classes took longer than expected and was punctuated throughout by AJ saying alternately, �I want to say hi!� and �Mommy, play your violin!� By the time I got off the phone, AJ was apopleptic for me to play the violin for him. He shouts out songs and I try to play them. It�s pretty entertaining for both of us. After a few requests, we packed it up and headed upstairs to read stories and take a nap. By the time we finished, I had 15 minutes to pack my bag and get to the train. Miraculously, I made it. Three stations later, I�m sitting here on the train still catching my breath. Hopefully the rest of the day will be a little less frantic. But sometimes it�s nice to get your blood boiling. I need waking up every now and again.

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Therapy. That�s about all I can say for the rest of my day. Although my magic red shoes bit back in the form of two enormous red blisters, one on each heel, the rest of the day was golden. I walked from the train to the Newberry enjoying the sunshiney day, despite the overload of sidewalk loiterers caused by an evacuation of the Thompson Center. At the Newberry, I got a table facing the tree-lined park and proceeded to plow through the journals I came to read. Not only did I find what I was looking for, but I found several useful things that I wasn�t looking for and spent nearly $50 of fellowship money in copying fees. By the time they were throwing me out of the library at a quarter to six I was covered in book dust and was ready to go. I came down to find a torrential downpour, the kind where when you walk through it you feel like you�re drowning. My umbrella turned inside out. I was soaked, but it was the first time I had been cool enough all day. I decided to pass on the bus and take the subway, which is circuitous but has the clear advantage of allowing you to wait indoors.

At Clark and Lake waiting for my transfer to the blue line I stood next to one of the most entertaining buskers I�ve seen in a long time. She was a slight woman, Puerto Rican, perhaps, bent under her instruments. She had a violin on a frame held to her neck, a guitar slung round her with a strap and castanets on the back of the fingers that also held a violin bow and strummed the guitar. She wore tap shoes and sang and whistled sweetly, flamenco-style songs punctuated with the tap-tap-tap of her feet. I threw some money in her case as the train pulled up. I was fascinated with what she did, with how she came to be there, how she learned to juggle all those things at once. And not just the instruments, but also her audience and the trains themselves, stretching out a slender leg to hold the case when the train roared up before her to keep the bills from flying away, but never once missing a beat of the music.

I hopped out of the train at Division. My former stop. I was pleased that I still remembered where to stand on the platform to not only be right in front of an opening door, but to be by the door that would open just at the bottom of the stairs at the final stop. I may live in the suburbs now, but I still know how to get around. Book group was extremely congenial. I had never been to R�s house, or at least not this house. She and her partner bought a three-flat and gutted it, turning it into a quirky lofted three-story house for the two of them. Her partner is a sculptor and the space seems built around his pieces, with one great pillar of a piece serving as both the base of the banister to the upstairs and a sort of welcome sentry upon entrance. A new member joined and totally charmed us all � funny and smart and fun to talk to. It was a very upbeat meeting with lots of good book talk, despite the fact that everyone agreed about the book (It was a gripping read but ultimately unsatisfying). The beginning I read on the train was engaging. I�ll read it after I finish Fortress of Solitude, which I am loving and savoring slowly (Thanks rs536!). It was so nice to relax with friends and wine and good food and books and cats. I miss having a life outside of my house. But tonight I also missed putting AJ to bed, singing him to sleep, playing the silly games we play to ward off nighttime demons and make the world safe.

And this morning it is raining. Again. AJ looked out the window and said, �Is it ever going to stop?� Good question. I love a good spring rain, but given the rapidly increasing size of our backyard stream, I�m thinking we may need to start building an ark.

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