"Neb, may I say something. An observation," asked Magwair in his broken English.

"Sure," I said, mop and bucket in hand, surveying the classroom.

"It's just something I've noticed. Perhaps it's not true. But just an observation."

"Yeah?"

"You, you don't smile. When you first were here, always there was a smile on your face. And now it is long." He drew his hand down his face.

"Ah," I said. "Yes, that's probably true."

"Why is that? Why you don't smile as much now?"

"Lots I'm thinking about, I suppose," I answered.

"School too hard?" he asked.

"Well, there's just a lot on my mind. And my friend left," I said quietly.

Yes, I had noticed that I kind of wander, that I walk as though wishing invisibility.

"Don't notice me," I think. "Don't talk to me. Don't look at me. Let me be alone to think and sort."

We're discussing issues, painful issues that make me glad I'm not a politician or policy maker. What to do about AIDS, what to do with the war in Iraq, how to handle gender issues, what about female genital mutilation? And how about aid and free trade? All tough questions without definite answers.

Plus my questions...where is my life going in the next five years. Which job offer will I take? Do I stay in Switzerland three more months as I've been asked? Do I say yes to edit a book that's waiting to be translated into a dozen languages? Do I go home and edit long distance? Do I lead the writing school in Texas? Do I start workshops, do I start grad school in Education, how do I find time to write the other three books?

One thing I know. I have a mid-term tomorrow. And then I have four days to myself. Please, oh please roommates, go explore Europe! Leave me the room to recover my sanity! Give me my personal space again so I can continue on without turning a chair to the wall and hiding under my headphones.

Another thing I know. The music. The music helps. It soothes.

Ahh.

And now for food.