I�m back! I love visiting my parents; good food, good wine, and always an interesting selection of guests. As I murmured in the middle of the dinner party on Friday night, �Dinner with my parents � a spectator sport�. You have to be on the ball, have sharpened your wit before arriving at table, and be ready to laugh.

As for the good food, highlights of this weekend�s gastronomical journey include seafood and chicken paella, velvet fennel and potato soup, a killer triple rack of lamb, rosemary and walnut polenta, a semi-fredo with caramel sauce, and white chocolate-strawberry tarts, along with a splendid merlot that they apparently serve at Parliament as well.

The weather was great � highs between 10 � and 15� C, sunny patches � real sunny patches � followed by rain � warm rain! � followed by sun again. My winter coat was too warm, so I went out and found a jaunty little dark red raincoat that I adore � on sale! (Took me ages to decide on it – I kept saying, �But I should buy black!�) I spent time in the newly refinished den, where my parents have taken down the dark panelling and painted it in two tones of pale yellow, put up white baseboards and chair rails, and generally made it seem as if you could walk through the triple window at one end of the room across a gently sloping lawn to the ocean. (We could probably pull that off � we�d have to flatten the back neighbour�s house, but Mum�s been looking for an excuse to do that for ages now.) We mourned the Queen Mum. We watched Trudeau on CBC. We watched the Canadian Junior Men’s team take it down to last rock to win the World Juniors. I read three books.

Then we came home, and I felt like I�d been slammed back into a two-dimensional world. For the past nine or so months, life�s been getting harder and harder, and tempers shorter and shorter, and patience running pretty close to worn out. As soon as I walked in the door, it all settled back onto my shoulders like some dreadful mantle. Life will be much, much better when I don�t feel like I have to keep reminding my husband of all the things he has to do (which can always be �done later� since he has no fixed schedule), and when I don�t feel like I have to make excuses when people ask me how far he�s progressed on a promised project, or how the job hunt is going.

For everyone�s info, he�s joined a landscaping firm and will be out of the house in two weeks. I mean, he will be gainfully employed in two weeks. Um, how about outside and getting exercise in the fresh air in two weeks?

For some reason, having a formal schedule with a lump of time already taken up makes everyone plan things out better, and renders them more capable of hitting deadlines. When you�ve got oceans of time and floating deadlines, it�s harder to discipline yourself. I know this. I sympathise with this. However, there comes a time when I�m not sympathetic any more. My sympathy gets all used up. I take my commitments pretty seriously, so if I suspect (irrationally or with reason) that someone�s not taking their commitments as seriously as I am, I get irritated. I know these past months have been hard for my husband as well, dealing with his sense of self-worth and his value and all that. I�ve been supportive. I know that as my temper gets shorter, he has more to deal with as well. I�ve given leeway.

Now, though, I feel so wrung out that I don�t think I can do it any more. I hate feeling like this, because I feel like I�m letting people down � my husband, co-workers, friends, orchestra, students� me included. I know, I know, I�m only human, we can�t be perfect all the time, etcetera. It feels dreadful, though. All I want to do as a result is go away and be alone somewhere until I�m ready to come out and be a productive member of society again.

I keep telling myself that being miserable builds character. You know what? It’s not a heck of a lot of fun while you’re at it. I’d rather have fun again.