when I'm not skiing

So it occurred to me that I am not skiing. I had thought about it since I used to do around this time of the year. Instead, I came home. Not that apartment-in-the-city-esque Schwab home, but one of the several homes where the heart is. This is the one where the husband is. It's nice: being home sometimes. The daisies are starting to come back, but the camellias continue to refuse to bloom. The onions that L was so excited about somehow lost the underground part and became just roots and stem, so instead of regular sweet onions, it's more of a green onion story. Sometimes, I don't know where I fit into the household anymore, since I'm home only once or so a week. Do I just pick up whatever chore? Or am I still fully responsible for things? I spent Saturday getting things that were broken fixed--like my favorite sunglasses and interview shoes--and shopping for things that I had been meaning to pick up--like long sleeve t-shirts. When we went to visit Kellogg, they took him away for a whole day of education about where to find everything in the local area and how it was his duty as the non-student to support the Student during this intense period of activity. That orientation has made a world of difference. I've spoken with several SOs who've said they would have loved to have had that.

Anyway, work on the job front continues. People continue to submit their applications to school, so I've had some interaction in that direction, too. Weird. How long ago that all seems. I guess, no matter how big the fish in your pan are, there are always bigger fish to fry. Always ever-more competitive environments to compete in or goals to achieve. Always more interesting places to go over holiday weekends.

Time to turn to homework, at least for a while.