3/25 J spent fifteen minutes in a bookstore and comes back with an entire bag of unbelievably good finds. I want to read them all, electronically, and if my life’s work was to understand why this works in a bookstore and not on the internet, my existence will have been meaningful.

3/24 Leaving Gothenburg later than usual: 2.35pm, arriving in Manhattan later than usual: 8.20pm touchdown, 10pm doorstep. 

3/23 My son, who explicitly asks for J and me to come into his room and say good night to him separately, not together, assembles the lists of what were the best things we did today, and on the entire weekend. The telescope, with which we saw Jupiter and its moons, takes a high rank for both of us, also the KSP mission to Mars, which he had been planning and preparing for a long time, to perform it with us step by step, also the geocaching in the park which led to some extended and daring tree-climbing. Next week we will, once again, ask ourselves on video how those rankings have shifted due to the ebbing of recency bias.

3/22 Difficult day. Sky clear, bright sun, kids are playing Magic, and I’m in panic. J crashed, will need hours more sleep. Don’t know how to keep track of all the things that need to be taken care of. Feel like I’m failing by every possible measure.

3/21 Always the joy of embarking on a journey together, even though we know it will be gruesome. As we get closer to our destination, I’m checking off the steps: Putting the contacts back in before we land in Amsterdam (always the moment I fear the most, not because it’s difficult, but because the soreness of my eyes starts the painful part of the journey, the part where I yearn each minute that it will end). Now only wait for the wheelchair, which will hopefully show up at our gate. Now only make it through passport. Now only wait for the staff to arrive at the gate. Now only board the connecting flight. Now only endure the cramped seating, and the merciless morning sunlight above the clouds. Now only the coffee and orange juice before we land in Sweden. Now only another wait for the wheelchair. Now only the suitcases off baggage claim. Now only the car rental. Now only the drive through Gothenburg. Now only get the key out of the locker. Now only up the stairs. Now only some tooth brushing. Now only the most deeply anticipated hours of sleep, even though the body wonders and rebels against it, since it’s the wrong time of day.

3/20 Overnight to Sweden.

3/19 Worked on some math with my daughter, on her request, via video. An entire page on the tablet fills quickly. Those symbols are only a scaffold, the math must happen in the brain, and it is beautiful to see that for my daughter, it does.

3/18 Not making progress and still exhausted. That’s a heinous combination, rife with self-doubt.

3/17 Again exhausted beyond bounds after a failed day, I am standing in a jungle of code and data and it just doesn’t make sense anymore.

3/16 The guy at the weed store walked around to us and looked at me with that beaming gaze of recognition and said he’d immediately had that feeling of having seen me before, on television, and, being so used to this, we may not have made it clear enough that I was not, in fact, whom he had seen on television, because he made the highly unusual move of shaking my hand and seemed very pleased by the encounter.