Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. -Murphy’s Law
Two months later, after packing up my life and moving back home to good old Chino, and here is what I’ve got to show for it:
-Another year of life (semi-)successfully completed. Check. Quarter-life crisis. Check. YAY LIFE! Many thanks and lots of love to all the friends and family who were able to make it for cake and milk.
– I’m working again, this time as a tutor; the hours are perfect for my current physical capabilities and severely cut back from when I was on JET, which means I have time to continue my physical rehabilitation. No more inflammation or scar tissue and the nerve pain has finally become manageable (without needing to rely on pain killers).
-Mastering the Art of Hobbling because of a new injury.
-8 hour training sessions for work killed all my energy and free time but now that I’m only rolling in to the office when the kids are there to be tutored, the time is ripe to redirect to the hobbies that keep me sane. Mostly writing (when the ideas flow).
-Needing to drink a ton of coffee and vitamins to get energized for the day ahead.
-Feeling knocked out by mid-day (an upgrade from feeling knocked out by mid-morning but still).
-Hot as hell in this town.
-High school band mate died recently. Not even while on the job as a fire fighter but simply doing what he loved: riding his motorcycle. It’s an understatement to say that his death was a shock to our small community. When someone so full of life dies before hitting 30, nothing makes sense or feels real anymore. And all of these memories come rushing back: competitions, training for competitions, that weird nickname the horn section gave him that has nothing to do with his real name but it stuck anyway until we all forgot his real name in a conversation once, schlepping from class to class, travelling… and he’s no longer here to share new memories anymore. He will be missed by all of us.
-Less painful than the loss of a friend and former band mate but more physically debilitating: ripped plantar fascia from toe to heel. And today is the first day I’ve been able to plant my left sole firmly to the ground, apply moderate weight, and not feel it tearing up inside. This happened because I am an idiot. My physical therapist had told me I wasn’t ready to travel and I went to Japan anyway to tie up my affairs. I guess it serves me right but at the same time it wasn’t really an option. I didn’t feel comfortable having my work place ship things to me and they weren’t comfortable letting my friends have a run at the place, plus there was a ton of paperwork. The cane did nothing to alleviate all the walking, packing, and last-minute adventuring. Which meant further injury. Which meant everything got pushed back. Until, well, now.