Making the most
At this stage, everything I see and do is tainted with the thought of “This is the last time”. It is pathetic really. For example, I was at the supermarket the other day thinking, “This is the last time that I buy ketchup in Toyama”, and I was saddened. Pathetic.
I am trying to make the most of my last weeks in Toyama. The way I am doing this is by:
A) Staying up very late. This goes by my philosophy that an hour sleeping is an hour wasted. AND
B) Drinking alcohol.
Of course, combining staying up late and drinking alcohol leads to problems. Observe…
One Sunday night, I was sitting at home with a cup of tea. The night before had been a sober one, but I had stayed up very late. So I was just sitting on the tatami floor, not wearing a shirt or pants, in front of the fan. Everything was normal.
At 11pm I get a message, the gist being “want to go for a drink?” I mean, I am trying to make the most of my last weeks in Toyama, so I had to.
At 1:30, only 3 drinks later, I get home.
At 3:30 I wake up on my couch. In my sleepy stupor, I had failed to make it to my bed. I moped to my bed, set my alarms and crashed.
At 8:40 I wake up again. I check the time and say aloud:“This can’t be good”. I was supposed to be at school 10 minutes ago.
At 8:49 I leave my apartment, and drive the 15 minutes to the elementary school. I wasn’t too worried, since it was my elementary school day, and my first class begins at 9:30, which I had everything planned for. It would be pretty ridiculous if there were repercussions for being late.
At 9:00 the assistant principal of the elementary makes a phone-call to my main school to enquire about my whereabouts.
At 9:03 I arrive in front of the school and relax a little. At least I made it pretty much on the hour. I gather my teaching materials. I have a basket, a pair of shoes, a ukulele and my regular bag. It takes a few minutes to get my things together.
At 9:06 the English teacher at my main school, on request of the Vice-principal calls my cell phone. In my haste, I had left my cell phone at home. It rings harmlessly, and she leaves a message for me to listen at the end of the day.
At 9:06 I change shoes and walk to the staffroom. I stop to say hi to some teachers. They seem surprised to see me. I was determined to not make a big deal of being late, and I confidently walk into the staffroom and say good morning.
At 9:07 at my main school, the English teacher tells my Vice-principal that no-one answered my cell phone. Expecting the worst, but hoping for the best, he picks up his phone and calls my supervisor at the Board of Education.
I was completely oblivious to all of this until I saw the message on my phone, and until I talked to the copy-room lady at school. No-one else talked to me about it. It was the elephant in the room for the next few days, but I felt it was easiest to play dumb. I don’t have to try that hard.
But I shall continue to make the most out of every single day, and the ketchup I bought. After all, I only have 2 more weeks in Toyama.
At this stage, everything I see and do is tainted with the thought of “This is the last time”. It is pathetic really. For example, I was at the supermarket the other day thinking, “This is the last time that I buy ketchup in Toyama”, and I was saddened. Pathetic.
I am trying to make the most of my last weeks in Toyama. The way I am doing this is by:
A) Staying up very late. This goes by my philosophy that an hour sleeping is an hour wasted. AND
B) Drinking alcohol.
Of course, combining staying up late and drinking alcohol leads to problems. Observe…
One Sunday night, I was sitting at home with a cup of tea. The night before had been a sober one, but I had stayed up very late. So I was just sitting on the tatami floor, not wearing a shirt or pants, in front of the fan. Everything was normal.
At 11pm I get a message, the gist being “want to go for a drink?” I mean, I am trying to make the most of my last weeks in Toyama, so I had to.
At 1:30, only 3 drinks later, I get home.
At 3:30 I wake up on my couch. In my sleepy stupor, I had failed to make it to my bed. I moped to my bed, set my alarms and crashed.
At 8:40 I wake up again. I check the time and say aloud:“This can’t be good”. I was supposed to be at school 10 minutes ago.
At 8:49 I leave my apartment, and drive the 15 minutes to the elementary school. I wasn’t too worried, since it was my elementary school day, and my first class begins at 9:30, which I had everything planned for. It would be pretty ridiculous if there were repercussions for being late.
At 9:00 the assistant principal of the elementary makes a phone-call to my main school to enquire about my whereabouts.
At 9:03 I arrive in front of the school and relax a little. At least I made it pretty much on the hour. I gather my teaching materials. I have a basket, a pair of shoes, a ukulele and my regular bag. It takes a few minutes to get my things together.
At 9:06 the English teacher at my main school, on request of the Vice-principal calls my cell phone. In my haste, I had left my cell phone at home. It rings harmlessly, and she leaves a message for me to listen at the end of the day.
At 9:06 I change shoes and walk to the staffroom. I stop to say hi to some teachers. They seem surprised to see me. I was determined to not make a big deal of being late, and I confidently walk into the staffroom and say good morning.
At 9:07 at my main school, the English teacher tells my Vice-principal that no-one answered my cell phone. Expecting the worst, but hoping for the best, he picks up his phone and calls my supervisor at the Board of Education.
I was completely oblivious to all of this until I saw the message on my phone, and until I talked to the copy-room lady at school. No-one else talked to me about it. It was the elephant in the room for the next few days, but I felt it was easiest to play dumb. I don’t have to try that hard.
But I shall continue to make the most out of every single day, and the ketchup I bought. After all, I only have 2 more weeks in Toyama.
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