it’s a 3pm sunset kind of day. the curtains are drawn and i’m still in my bed but i can feel the gloom outside. my knees always feel strange and heavy on rainy days. most days in winter i hate to get out of bed because my feet have to touch the floor and it is deadly cold, even through my socks. i make a sludgy cup of coffee and i forget how much sugar i’ve dumped in my mug so i scoop another spoonful in, just in case.
i’ve been meaning to go out. the only time i stepped out in the past few days was to buy snacks from family mart. i look for cheesecake but it is out of stock. my other go-to is a sad vegetable salad with sesame dressing. i see a flock of birds. they loop and loop, this noticeably large flock, flying back and forth over the same spot, for more than a minute. is there going to be an earthquake? don’t birds act strange before earthquakes? my mind wanders, and i imagine godzilla towering over everyone and everything. i am still not sure if i want the jacked-up hollywood one or the nerdy-looking japanese one. it is oddly liberating to think about a giant lizard making an appearance and our collective scale of concern instantly recalibrate. i realize that i just don’t want to go back to work.
the day has been dark and unchanging. i give in to my impulse and text a girlfriend. we make plans to watch avatar but second-guess our choice to watch a 3.5-hour movie with less-than-glorious reviews. there's no way to get through this movie sober. we book the tickets anyway and stick to our bad decisions because sometimes there’s just nothing else to do. bad movies can make for great entertainment with unsavory commentary and a good sense of timing. this is a trick i picked up from the trolls in indian movie theaters.
making plans for the weekend feels like an accomplishment in itself, so i get back to work.
i send emails and my inbox is filled with out-of-office messages. i love reading ooo messages from the european people at work, casually announcing three weeks of holidays. one month even. requesting product launches to be put off. no other continent on earth can dare compare. in japan, i had a girl at work apologize to me for taking two hours off for a dentist appointment. these apologies-for-inconvenience phrases are more often than not just formality, but corporate japanese is cloyingly apologetic. i am pissed about this non-issue because i don’t want to pepper my sentences with decorative sorrys.
my home office is a desk by a useless window that opens to my neighbor’s balcony, some wall, and a single large window at a distance. in summer, when i keep the windows open, i can hear the neighbors’ chitchats in the afternoon - kids conspiring against parents, mom scolding kid, grandpa hacking his lungs out. i listen for grandpa every winter. but it is bleak and isolating during winter. this unblinking eye of a window comes to life at around 6 and i remember to turn the lights on.
writing this makes me wonder if i should draw the curtains. at least three houses have a clear view of me working at my desk. i open the window. just a little bit to get some movement in the room. the cold breeze is soothing on my face and the heated room suddenly feels oppressive. i hear my neighbors’ outdoor units humming. it is time for their evening bath and i remember this scene from my neighbor totoro.
a classic family-moves-into-a-new-home/neighborhood-that-may-be-haunted story, but instead of rowdy poltergeists and Satan, we get friendly spirits that help the girls in their time of need. and i ask myself what i will do if i ever find magic. a portal in the bush, a crack in the mirror, a hidden pathway to a furry giant that will probably look terrifying in non-animated reality. maybe i will surprise myself and yield to magic. anything to get out of work, i guess.
Glad you’re back to writing. Keep going!