It is quiet. Too quiet.

Another Songdo Friday rolls around. This last week has been marked mainly by the battle with insomnia. Night before last, I managed to fall asleep at 8:30... yesterday morning. I have deliberately avoided taking sleeping pills the last two nights, as I am so reluctant to be dependent on them, and it turns out that I am, rather. The upshot is, that I am sleeping later- 1:30 in the afternoon, most days, and then end up bouncing around after midnight.

Ah, it'll be allright. The only loss, really, is that I miss most of the day, but hadn't had much planned anyway. The gain is that I am awake and able to catch up with folks elsewhere- Linda in South Wales (three hours on Skype: yikes!!) and David H in- where are you now, David??- being two examples, not to mention the seventeen-mile long thread of chat I have created with Les, Amy and Ann. The world feels a little more secure in its orbit, with the four of us so busily putting it to rights.

When I wake, I generally toddle over to the school garden to check on the chickens and talk some minor philosophy with them. Nothing too deep; they are just chickens, after all, and I have chemo brain. We engage in discussions about what will happen to them if they get into the tomato beds, they cluck derisively at me, I shake my head ruefully and remind them that they are likely to be delicious. I also attempt to do a bit of feeble weeding, and pick what is turning into a glut of tomatoes. Honestly, I wish someone else would go and take some- hate for them to go to waste, and I've already taken about sixty pounds, shared them out with the Korean staff still on site, made almost as much sauce as the freezer can hold- and no small task, when the peeling and seeding is taken into account; they are cherry toms, you see, and take ages to process.

Good grief. When did I become such a bore?? Subject change!!

Annie is working away on art and her Extended Essay, and probably looking forward to getting back to school and away from her nagging mother. We're talking about universities every day now, as her applications are going to need to be made soon. She wants to go back to the UK badly, is looking at doing her undergrad in Theatre and Stage Design, and would like to be near Cardiff or London. The problem, we have discovered, is that she has been out of the country. Apparently, even though she is a UK citizen, as she has been living out here for the last three years, she will need to pay international student fees, and will not be eligible for student loans. This will almost double her tuition, and means that the cost will have to be met by ME. We are thinking through options, and I welcome advice! We've checked Europe- can't find the course match- (Thanks for that suggestion, though, David K) and are currently looking at Canadian schools, where apparently, all one needs to do to be considered a Canadian is to, well, BE a Canadian. And she is, thanks to her (for once, clear-thinking) mother's having got her citizenship sorted out about twenty minutes after she was born. We'll keep working on it.

This weekend, she is heading off to one of the Seoul rock festivals with a friend. I have been very fussy and worried, trying to figure out how she's going to get there and home safely, and keep hydrated and avoid sunburn and starvation and muggings and typhoid and beri-beri and snake bites and mad elephant attacks... you know, all that. She has smiled at me patiently with eyebrows slightly raised, and assured me that all will be well. When do they get condescending? Did that just happen this year?

A: You need to stop worrying. In another year, I'll be out on my own doing all this.
P: Why do you think I'm worrying?

Again, I seem tireder this round. The effects of the chemo may be cumulative, which doesn't bode especially well for how fit I will feel after the surgery. There is definitely some action afoot in the breast: the tumour appears to be shifting around a bit in there, which the oncologist tells me is ok. It is now directly behind the nipple, which is a shame. It is pretty tender, too, which may be connected to its reluctance to disappear. I'm keeping an eye on it. Well, not exactly an eye, but I'm keeping track of things.

The plan for the remainder of the month is to continue to stay awake half the night, carry on reading more than I have in years, and persist in aggravating my daughter. Next week, I am going to try to scope out a route to the hospital that uses buses rather than taxis to save some pennies. All action and adventure! I still can't say for certain when the surgery will take place, and that may be the only interesting news to come in the next few weeks. It doesn't make for very good reading, I'm afraid, but the things that are entertaining tend to involve me being ill or hurt, so I'm quite happy to be rather dull for the time being. When there's a good story, it'll be shared, never fear.

Oh, I'm going back to the dentist on Tuesday. That's always jolly.