Tulips, and More U-Bahn Reading

I have spent this week so far diving deep into my work and not breaking the thread of my concentration until the evening. It was extremely enjoyable. It is quiet at work because a few co-workers are on holiday, and although I certainly miss them, it does seem to have created a more efficient and, one might say, library-like or cloistered atmosphere.

The presence of direct sunlight on buildings in the courtyard is novel but pleasing, although the twitter of the birds I didn't notice today as we had our windows closed again; so spring is enhancing the atmosphere. Noise-wise, it was after seven o'clock where two colleagues came in with a ladder, an electric drill and other paraphernalia, in order to reattach a curtain that had collapsed onto the gas heating range beneath the far windows. But one of our neighbours has also been roaring away with an electricity- or gas-fuelled appliance in an unseen corner of the courtyard, at the height of day.

On my walks around the office, I've barely noticed any of the plant life that has emerged elsewhere in Berlin. On Saturday I spotted a disconsolate, shabby snowdrop, but also promising buds of royal purple crocuses, dark primroses nestled in the newly gardened soil at the street side, and a sprinkle of buds and curling rose leaves on the bushes. Daffodils, tulips, and hyacinths, as well as tall spiry pussy willow branches, are bulging from the shelves of florists on the sidewalks near the office, however.

In the U-Bahn I've added books to my bag, which I suppose are best discussed when I get around to reading them. In the meantime I read more of the Feminine Mystique, with great absorption, and liked Betty Friedan's descriptions of 19th century feminism as well as her investigations of the image of women in Freudian psychology. It might sound a bit naïf, but I 'discovered' a watered-down, half-informed version of Freud's thought as a teenager, and it was quite as startling and interesting as it may have been when he originated it. Although with the passage of time I do think it's like a religion: it can help people who sincerely find it useful, and for everybody else it's a bit confining. After reading Betty Friedan I did feel better about having found 1. him personally, and 2.psychoanalysis generally patronizing, too. I've had my doubts for a while, and it's reassuring to know that maybe the reason for it is not just my own insolence, or ignorance, or both.