Prep for Japan

I'm back, everyone.

I was told to blog about my upcoming trip to Japan, and in the spirit of economy, I decided to use this blog instead of creating a new one. I hope that doesn't tear a hole in anyone's universe. 

Anyhow, this week I need to get a tetanus shot (that is my least favourite thing to do), get an international driver's license, and buy a boatload of things like work gloves and wellies and also a sleeping bag that doesn't require its own suitcase to contain it. 

I'm a little stressed about all the things I need to do before next Monday.

I've been brushing up on my Japanese (this is going fairly well) and also practicing staying up later so jetlag doesn't completely incapacitate me once I get to Japan. 

This whole summer I've been looking forward to New Mexico and Japan. New Mexico is done as of today (trying not to dwell), and I think I'll have a small personal crisis once I get back from Japan when I must get down to finding real, big girl work. 

Currently I am at an interesting point in life where God whalloped me over the head hard enough I finally gave up trying to be in control of everything and am instead surfing passively along through life, blinking a little in a perplexed way at a few circumstances he's put me in. This trip to Japan is one of them. These circumstances are along the lines of "things I never would have thought would happen." They've happened, though, and I have no human explanation as to why. "What on earth are you thinking, here?" is my default thought right now. I really am curious. 

I also hope this will be made clear sooner rather than later; that would be excellent. 

I know there's a T.S. Eliot quote for this, but I'm too lazy right now to go upstairs and find my book of his poetry. . . 

Ah, I ashamed myself, saying that, so I went and got my book anyway. I couldn't find that quote I was thinking of, but these two from Ash Wednesday work well, too: 

1.This is the time of tension between dying and birth. 

2. Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something

Upon which to rejoice

And pray to God to have mercy upon us

And I pray that I may forget

These matters that with myself I too much discuss

Too much explain

Because I do not hope to turn again

Let these words answer

For what is done, not to be done again

May the judgement not be too heavy upon us

. . . 

Teach us to care and not to care

Teach us to sit still