Saturday, June 15, 2002

In order to be able to write - even to read - I need to be in this very special state of mind. Other people go to beautiful, quiet, clean and peaceful places like Volda to achieve this peace of mind, to be isolated from the bustle and aggression of their every day lives. I can write just about anywhere - in an uncomfortable chair, in a computer-lab with chatting students all about me, in a tent while it's raining... The one thing I can't handle is guilt. And the last two days my guilt of being a bad colleague, a bad mother, a bad daughter, in short, a very, very bad woman guilty of the sin of putting my work before the needs of everybody else, has caught up with me with a vengeance.

I don't know how to deal with it. I am going to bed. I am so sorry. Tomorrow I'll try to be good.

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