Life, she goes on. (人生は続くんや。)

The first day of the work week is always the toughest. Have to gear yourself back up into "productive member of society" mode, and realize that sitting around in front of your computer all day simply is not going to happen.

... which is not to say I sat around in front of my computer all weekend. I got many an errand done, some of which have been recounted here for your reading pleasure. But still. It's the possibility of being a lazy bum that's so attractive to my horribly exhausted mind.

...and I'm not even exhausted, really. I just like sleeping. Or something.

Though I still am tired rather a lot.

...admittedly, that may be my Hashimoto's kicking in again. Oh, inherited thyroid conditions. What fun.

As more evidence of how absolutely fail-tastic my earthly form is, I was nearly incapacitated earlier today (oh, who am I kidding, I'm writing this bit after the post date, even) by a migraine. Luckily, I have absolutely amazing co-workers, and since the pain was worst during my two-hour prep time, I pulled myself together in time for my last four classes of the day (the first of which was graciously switched from a rambunctious group to a quiet single kid, thanks to my beautifully amazing head teacher.)

So, bad for my head, excellent for my work morale and feelings towards my co-workers.

And here I never thought I was a silver lining type of gal.

...Speaking of which, it started raining while I was hunched up in my chair with an ice pack pressed to my forehead. So that was quite lovely.

Theoretically, it's supposed to continue with the rainy theme today, due to a naughty typhoon whose course has changed dramatically. After so long of this heat... one can only hope. The rain was gloriously cool yesterday, even if it didn't last more than twenty minutes.

In other news, Melon is now in Japan (hooray!) and is the main cause of me not getting this post out on time, so you know who to cry to if you have your panties in a twist about scheduling.

...you know I say that, but really, I wasn't actually coming home last night with any bright ideas to finish this post up as it was, so. Ahem.

I have made an appointment to get my hair cut at a local place... which is apparently staffed entirely by オシャレ young men (ok, and one オシャレ young lady.) My original goal was to wait and go back to Kyoto for all my hair-cutting-needs, but a combination of ridiculously long and unkempt hair (my bangs are getting a little silly, and I'm sick of putting it up every day for work) and my discovery of this very Kyoto-esque place right in my back yard (truly, it's about seven minutes away)... well, let's just say that travel-three-hours-for-my-hair idea is getting put on hold.

Which is not, of course, to say I won't do it; during my search for a local hair salon, I also found out that the stylist I went to at my salon in Kyoto is still there, so of course I am eager to go back, say hi, and see if he remembers my crazy gaijin self who always started freaking out when he put the dye in my hair.

...although the service at that place is so good that even if he has no clue who I am, he will make sure that I think he remembers everything about me.

I do hope that my experience in Matsusaka is similar.

...then again, at present, I hope the reservation goes through.

I made it online, which is something of a first for me, and through a third-party site at that, which personally informed me that there's no guarantee of me actually getting the appointment that I requested, and that I have to wait now for the salon itself to contact me and confirm.

What a nerve-wracking way to set up a hair-cut.

Really, I probably should have just been a big girl and called them up myself, but... well. (a) I'm a coward and (b) I'm still sort of iffy with my Japanese phone skills. You non-language learner types, think for a minute--consider how hard it is occasionally to understand the person on the other line when he's speaking your language. Now put that into another language, with seriously jacked up polite speech and the possibility of confusion over your freaking name.

...ok, really, that last bit has never happened to me, but I cannot help but feel that there would be trouble when they asked for my name for their records and I wasn't there to just write it down.

And then again, everything might just be hunky-dory and I would leave the conversation feeling good about myself and my conversational skills.

...if I go back, I'll call, ok?

Geez.

Talk about pressure.

This is Edo, signing off and hoping she actually has a hair appointment for this Sunday.