How many times can you say that you and some friends jumped in the car and took a road trip to the tallest and most famous mountain in Japan?
Now I can say that I’ve done it.
And we did it right. We rented a car, left early, brought plenty of snacks, and stopped at (almost) all of the rest stops on the highway. Between the company, spontaneity, and absurdity of it all, it was the recipe for a perfect Sunday.
The witching hour.
Regardless of when this gets published, I began typing this at 3:30 am on a Saturday night (Sunday morning?)
No it’s not a place.
During one of my private English lessons, I was talking with my student, playing a get to know you game since he is new and I asked a question about tea. Specifically, what’s your favorite tea?
He looked at me, clearly thinking hard about it, but said “I don’t know.” I tried asking again, rephrasing it and asking a silly question, thinking he was just nervous. Finally he responded saying that he had a favorite, but didn’t know what it was called in English. I told him that was okay, tell me in Japanese.
There is a lot of talking involved in being a teacher.
My vocal-cords aren’t used to keeping up with the amount of talking that’s required on a daily basis. I woke up Tuesday morning (or rather I hardly slept at all that before because my throat hurt so badly), but when I turned my alarm off, it was a nasty surprise when I opened my mouth and no sound came out.