I had a lovely lunch with two prospective students visiting from Ireland who asked me many, many questions about the program and professors and university and hey, is the weather here always this cold?

Apparently, this fall is in the top 5 coldest falls in Chicago recorded history. That explains why my scarf and gloves are getting such an early workout. My poor chrysanthemums are suffering from schizophrenia, what with being dragged into our hot, dry hall every night to avoid the frost. I�m a bit schizophrenic myself. Part of me wants to work like a demon � I�m trying to encourage this part. The other part of me wants to hibernate.

Every Thursday I have big plans for the train ride home and every Thursday I fail to accomplish them because I am blitzed. This week was particularly unproductive. I blame this on Claudia, who has provided me with reading material the last two weeks. Today I was forced to work on my lectures and dissertation, draft an abstract for a presentation I�m doing in March and write exam questions. I�m willing to bet that most of the work will have to be redone tomorrow, as I�m half asleep.

Because of my meeting, I didn�t make the train in time to get home to pick up AJ from school. I can�t tell you how much I miss it when I don�t get there. Every day, AJ comes running out of the school, usually among the first wave of students, with only the top half of his jacket zipped � he can�t quite get the pin of the zipper all the way into the zip pull, so it always comes undone at the bottom. He pauses as he looks for me and then, after finding me, grins, sticks out his tongue in concentration, throws his arms open and runs as fast as he can. I brace myself for the inevitable sacking. Usually I don�t fall down. And then, quite anticlimacticly, he wriggles out of his backpack, demands a snack and disappears in search of The Girl Next Door for playground time.

Last night I warned AJ I wouldn�t be there today but Daddy would be there instead.

He pouted. �But you�re easier to see!� This struck me as funny. I am a shade taller than my husband, but I hang with a pack of other moms about my height. His dad walks closer to the door and stands apart. He is definitely easier to see.

�I hate it when you laugh at me!� He pouted harder.

�Daddy�s easy to see too. I�ll be home a little bit after you.�

�Well, okay.�

I didn�t like it when my mom wasn�t home after school either. My mom didn�t really understand it. I was in junior high when she started working part time. When she was home after school, I usually ignored her, did my homework, talked to my friends, ran outside. But when she wasn�t home, my brother and I moped and squabbled. Things weren�t right when she wasn�t there. I think that�s why I try so hard to be home, probably against my best interest. Because I remember that transition and even as an older kid, it was hard. As if AJ�s smiling face flying across the playground isn�t enough.

[Second entry today; click back for an entry so unbelievably boring that even I don't remember what it was about except that it ends with a unicycle.]

4 people said it like they meant it