I’m here. I go to work. Time passes.

It’s been two weeks since I’ve posted. I haven’t had anything nice to say so I haven’t said anything at all.

People tell me that my blog is full of positivity, that I see challenges and rise to the occasion. The truth is often much less graceful. The truth is I don’t remember the last time I washed my dishes or cooked something more complicated than frozen mini pizzas or cup noodles, although I know the last time I cooked it was spaghetti because there is still an unwashed sauce pan in my sink.

The last two weeks are hazy memories of exhaustion. I feel like I’ve been perpetually almost sick. At different times I have a nasty cough, a runny nose, or a low fever. The one constant has been my body feeling worn out and useless. I am cold and tired and just don’t care about anything other than watching Netflix and reading. Many of them have been poetry collections or novellas, but I have read 20 books in the 22 days so far of 2016. This is how I’ve been spending my time.

My blog posts are usually positive because that is what I use my blog for. Living on your own means that you have to give yourself the pep talks you need. I don’t have someone nearby to whine to and to tell me everything is going to be alright so I have to tell myself. And if I’m being honest I don’t often respond well to pep talks from other people because I don’t trust anyone and I don’t want sympathy.

The time in between my blog posts is often a blur. I haven’t even written in my personal journal since I came back from winter vacation. I wake up in the morning sometime before 6, I’m at work by 8:15, and I am back home around 5 unless it’s Monday or Tuesday when I get back home around 9 or 9:30. This is my life. Five days a week.

The worst part is it’s not difficult. I’m not a good teacher and that stresses me out because I wish I was a good teacher but really even being a bad teacher only having one or two lessons a day is not overly difficult. I’m not even at work for 8 hours a day most of the time. And yet my weeks feel like months vanishing into a cloud of just being too tired. This week it was Tuesday when I swore it was Friday and I could remember an entire week behind me until I realized that entire week was only Monday.

Weekends are too short breaks from the monotony, and all I can think is that if this is being an adult I don’t want it. I see a never ending stretch of five days a week full of exhaustion and nothing interesting happening in front of me and I hate it. And even though I’m in Japan I’m mostly just bored and tired, and bored of being tired, and too tired to be bored.

So it’s true that my blog posts are usually positive, but behind that is a person who usually wants to do literally nothing. I don’t like posting about this on my blog, but I also don’t like too many weeks going in between posts, so here you go. For the last few weeks I’ve been up to a whole lot of nothing. I thought I had the flu for a while, but then I got better. I did two loads of laundry last weekend. It was an achievement. I haven’t been writing. I haven’t been doing much of anything. Last week I was walking down the hall and my shoe fell off my foot and no one was surprised because that is kind of the perfect representation of my life right now. Even when I’m trying, my shoe just falls off anyway.

So I don’t really know why I’m posting this. It certainly isn’t a good example of my writing ability or even an interesting story from my time in Japan, and I’m not looking for people to be concerned about me, but this is where I’m at now. I’ve been in Japan for almost 6 months now. This is my 20th blog post. I’m here. I go to work. Time passes.

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