Partly sunny, 5C (7C)
I'm still in Shiga. Perhaps this is not surprising.
I think going out of town the week before a move is a good break for me--but, this time... well, I'm still moody and pissy and not looking forward to having to learn fucking Tokyo. I find myself thinking things like, "this job had better be worth it!" which is both foolish and naive. No job is worth it. I have to
makerebuild a [whole] life that's worth it and obviously because I'm (a) not a trust-fund baby and (b) was raised with a sense of responsibility for being productive work is always going to be a part of that life but no work alone is worth the frustration and irritation (and agony? Oh, dramatics!) of moving and making a life somewhere else. It's expensive, it's exhausting, it tries you in ways you don't want to be tried, etc... I should know!
Which is all to say I woke up feeling like a mopey little bitch this morning and am now questioning even more strongly whether I can really get everything done in time (of course I will--there's no choice not to...) and want to just curl up with some anime and be happily stimulated in my mind and numb to the world and it's tribulations around me. In fact, this urge is so strong that--for the moment, at least--this is exactly the plan after I get just a few (but nowhere near all!) of my to-dos for today done. Just a few, and then I'm taking a break from this ; or I'll break, and it's nowhere near time for that (yes, there is a time for that--growing a bit involves breaking a bit, duh). I'll deal with the rest of the day when it comes--right now I'll focus on the next five minutes. God help me.
Also, my body is still so full of food and I'm not really enjoying it. It's okay, body! Starting today we're eating sanely again! I promise! It'll get better! Just hang in and process! ( <-- anthem of my life... )
Oh, yeah, my dream :
I was in a building which was a lot like my high school building, only it was four stories high instead of two, and it was a hospital instead of a high school. I was part of a radical group trying to secure some basic human right. Some totalitarian government had surrounded the place and was laying siege to it, without breaking the glass (which was perhaps the most disturbing part). Then there was a lull in the pressure as they were preparing an insurgence with special forces that were being planted inside, amongst us, within that lull. I was part of some underground/intelligence agency within the radical group. I found out about someone on the outside that might be able to save me and my sister-not-my-sister-maybe-just-some-younger-member-I-was-close-to-or-whatever.
The dream was mostly our slow, long walk through the daylight streaming into the hall on the fourth floor, down the four flights of stairs, through our family-in-arms, through the marauding "foreign" [home!] army, and to a deli in the dusk-darkened corner of a rice paddy where the man who owned it made good sandwiches and sold train tickets to dissidents like myself. We went to the train station and found our sleeper train--it was one of the ones I'd used in Europe, with the split levels and viewing points.
I remember it was kinshi to speak--we'd be found out by any language we used and my voice. I had to look forward with a calm expression, but couldn't look anyone in the eye because the color would give us away. Talk about exercises in avoidance. And even on the train, our compartment was shared with two members of the fighting group that had been at the school-cum-hospital, so we still could hardly breath. Not that anyone in that army was actually violent towards any of us--it was just the principle of the matter. I lay down on the bed, my little-whatever on the bunk above me and just as I closed my eyes in the dream I opened them in life. My hair still smells like the shampoo from the onsen.