BELGRADE, May 20, 1999 -- 4:00 p.m.
At the Institute of Physics, four of us are on call until tomorrow morning. We're finishing up our research paper. I have deja vu. Last time the four of us were here on call together we worked on the same paper, and the same news was on CNN -- another school shooting. Around us here bombs are falling. Around all of us, the world over, the walls of sanity seem to be caving in. The cowboys are out playing judge, jury and executioner. This is just one more day in the video arcade war.
May 21, 9:00 a.m.
I've barely made it home. I was so tired, almost fell asleep on the bus coming back from work. I've traded day for night. Eat, shower, crawl into bed -- sleep.
2:00 p.m.
Just got up. Still feel as if I've gone a few rounds with Tyson. I join my family on the terrace. We eat fresh strawberries and cream among the flowers.
May 22, 2:30 a.m.
Blackout, once again. The Kostolac thermo-electric plant has been hit, along with the power utilities of several major cities. This time, conventional explosives were used -- much more efficient than the more expensive technology like graphite bombs. Half of Serbia is without power. I feel like a prisoner; someone has the power to say "lights out" whenever he pleases. We are all prisoners. Today has been the second day of furious bombings of a prison in Kosovo. The death toll is up to 19. An army barracks of the Albanian KLA was bombed by NATO, and there seem to be no survivors. "Curioser and curioser," as Alice would say. This is not Wonderland though. These are the things that surprise me tonight. The complete destruction of one of Belgrade's largest hospitals, the woman shot dead while giving birth, the child wounded by shrapnel on its first day on Earth -- these things are not surprising, that was yesterday, or was it the day before yesterday? Old news any way. One has to get used to ever new twists. I can't listen to the news anymore; anyway the batteries are becoming quite weak. Time to blow out the candles. Make a wish.
4:00 a.m.
The light above my head wakes me. The power is back on. I wake up to turn the fridge and freezer back on. One has to turn them off -- many have been destroyed during the power surges when electricity is turned back on. Back to sleep. The planes are flying overhead, the explosions are as loud as ever. People are dying somewhere nearby, but for me at this moment nothing is real except my bed and sleep.
8:00 a.m.
I wake up. Again no power.
3:00 p.m.
Power back on. I hurry to make an Indian dish for a late lunch -- Gobi Mussalum (potato and cauliflower curry). All four of us gobble it down -- the best compliment for the cook -- I feel like a chef in some exclusive restaurant. The stove is electric, so Natasha immediately cooks two more meals for tomorrow. A the same time, we make 2 liters of tea and 1.5 liter of black coffee and fill the thermoses. We hurry to pile the dirty dishes into the dishwasher and turn it on. We do a load of laundry, bathe the kids, heat the water again (the water heaters here are also electric). Natasha boils 4 liters of fresh milk -- this is much cheaper than buying the Pasteurized milk from the supermarket. Natasha makes yogurt from half of the milk. Throughout this hectic activity the kids are playing in their room.
7:00 p.m.
I am in the living room with Teodora listening to the stereo -- Pierre Fournier playing Bach's suite number 5 for the cello -- an old favorite of mine. Afterwards, a totally different mood -- Nikos Ksiloiris singing and playing the Crete lyre.
9:00 p.m.
Lights out. The music stops. The power lasted longer than we expected. Sara again starts crying. The candles are lit. Natasha plays a simple card game with the kids. I have a rather bad headache.
10:10 p.m.
We put the kids to bed. The same old routine -- plug in the freezer, plug in the fridge ... Can't turn on the water heater -- there are still parts of the city without power, and the utilities are asking people to refrain from using anything not essential.
11:00 p.m.
Blackout. We go to bed. The air raid sirens were on twice during the day, but now the night time bombings of Belgrade are already two hours late. 
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