Something is wrong with me. I cried for 2 hours last night, triggered by an interaction with a dean about David having some logistical / emotional problems with getting around Cambridge to and from his cross country, and fed perhaps (i'm guessing here) by guilt at not supporting David better, but confusion about how much I'm supposed to do for him, and annoyance that I don't think of what is perhaps obvious in terms of teaching him what he needs to do for himself now, and maybe a realization that he's growing up and taking a step out of the nest, and fear from the 2 hours when we didn't know where he was and had no way to contact him, and PMS, and my general weepiness that has been developing as I age, and then reading Little Lord Fauntleroy as a sort of escape. And may I say, thank you, Francis H Burnett, for giving us this little boy who is not broken, not even scarred, through the whole entire book. What a relief. Though a bit Chauncy Gardener.
Still feeling a little weepy this morning. Weird.
There's a one-woman show, "Truth Values", playing in Central Square through this weekend. I think it's about this woman's experience getting her PhD in Math at MIT around the time I was floundering around doing something similar there. The performer, Gioia, is staying with us. We're going to see it this weekend. People think it's really good, and I'm looking forward to it!