Sept 7-8 in 2015

So, what can be said for yesterday? Not a great deal. I had one class, and, after that, I got to leave early to teach the Monday eikaiwa. It was pleasant enough. They gently suggested that I put a bit more structure in class, something I was glad they did. I had wanted to, as it was kind of a slushy, silent, mess, but it was something I was hesitant to do. They’re so scared to speak, generally. The structure helps them, evidently, so I’m glad that we’ve got it. My stomach wasn’t well from how much I’d eaten over the weekend. I’m sure that the gobs of coffee didn’t help. So, I didn’t end up doing much for dinner. Sam wanted to go to a place that had promised us free food, but I wasn’t interested in it. I got a 7-11 salad and a ham sandwich. When that wasn’t enough, I added cereal, yogurt, and fruit. I tried to focus on playing a bit of guitar after a long walk, but it didn’t pan out. I went to bed early as I was exhausted, and tried to listen to ASMR. In the end, I think I’d have been better off without it, because it turns out that last night was my worst night of sleep in ages. My legs kept twitching, my sunburn and my mosquito bites itched insultingly as well. I just couldn’t get comfortable. I very nearly set my alarm back to 7 instead of 6 because I knew I’d be exhausted come morning, but I’m so used to getting up at six that at quarter to, I realized that I wasn’t going to be going back to sleep. Making it worse, I had a conversation with mum while my headset kept spazzing out during my morning walk, which certainly took away from the therapeutic element of the exercise. Then, this morning, I realized that I can’t find my red handkerchief. So, ruined black suit, and now missing handkerchief. Not a great time for my clothes so far. Also, my favorite gold ascot smells so horrible that it’s unwearable. That was pre Japan, though. I’d packed it after having taken it to the dry cleaner’s assuming they’d have remedied the smell. I was wrong. About a half-gallon of Japanese Febreeze has been remarkably ineffective, though it fixed the blue floor chair that smelled like an armada of dying asses back from a whaling expedition without any form of refrigeration. So, yeah. Not too hopeful.
I tried to pay the gas bill yesterday, but, apparently some of my bills are already automatically deducted, and others aren’t, and the town office isn’t entirely sure which is which. At least, I think it was gas? No idea. The whole thing is a bit of a mess. Then, on my walk, I decided to climb an embankment only to find out that it lead out onto a plateau that doesn’t connect to a road. I had to climb up another one to get to the road. Of course, I hadn’t been considering my sunburned knees at the time. This walk was worsened by the fact that I had been off to go to an Italian restaurant, the one that I can never get to. As far as I can tell, they couldn’t really seat me yesterday, they are by reservation only? Not entirely sure, though. We’ll have to see. Eventually. Someday. When my Japanese is good enough to enquire. Which may be a while.
Frankly put, I’m depressed. I feel awful, and I think that’s pretty clear from a lot of this. So far, this experience has been more Akita than Hikone. This is, frankly, the most alone I’ve been since the early days in China. Just post Akita. I keep assuring myself that, like China, this will get better, but I don’t know.
Part of what drives me, and what makes me function as a person, is seeing myself and everything else though somebody else’s eyes. I want new perspectives and new ideas and new ways of thinking and feeling. I need them to drive my own capacity. When I don’t have this kind of stimulus, I kind of . . . wilt. I don’t know of a better word for it, though that one smacks annoyingly of Amanda’s discussion of why her brain shut down if she didn’t eat. I just don’t quite know what to do on my own. I’ve written about it plenty before, with d’Artagnan comparisons aplenty. I think that the only real way to make this work is to find excuses to spend more time in the city, or, to suddenly become very fluent in Japanese. I think that, as far as first impressions go, the person most worth talking to here is Matsumoto Sensei, but I don’t know how to approach that touchy subject. It’s a bit rough.
When I get home today, I need to clean. No exercise, no guitar, no nothing. Just clean. I’ve got to keep everything in order, because I’ve got to keep my life in order. Almost 30. There’s no, “Someday soon.” That’s now. I’ve been putting off adulthood for a dozen years. It’s time to get it all together.