Alone. Again.

Hello blog,


thought I'd come here and whinge about my life.
Then I'll paste on that happy smile and go downstairs and cook dinner and chat brightly in a foreign language to an old lady who hasn't done anything interesting today, and who isn't much interested in what I've done.


He's gone. Again.
Finally came home Thursday. I was working until 9 pm, so didn't really see him...apart from the 20 mins he came to my classroom to fix the cable TV/telephone linkup. ;-)
Friday I was off out working all day. He cooked dinner. We ate a 3 person family. Then he and I watched American Idol on TV and went to bed.


This morning I had prepping for a tourism video narration-from-hell. A badly translated and badly proofed 20 plus pages of blah about attractive places that hopefully rich Chinese families in Hong Kong might like to come and see. The Hokkaido economy desperately needs cash-rich Chinese to come and buy all the lavender knickknacks and dried packets of fish.


My Care Assistant has left for another 7 days of ski instruction out in the middle of somewhere.
He ordered the lunch delivery service again for Okaasan - every day but Sundays.
He'll be home - maybe - on Friday night....and then away again for another millennium.


But hey - I got the car this week. So that's great isn't it!!!!


Off I went to the narration job. Scheduled for a ridiculous 2 hours of studio time. It took 4 hours. Me locked in a toilet cubical-size booth with headphones, a screen, a script and gibberish to read with a nice English voice.
The director and technician were patient beyond patience.
Exhausting. I don't think I want to work for this company again. The translation was badly done - hell, even the NAME of the region was incorrect...page after page after page...
But - bright spot - the organising company staff was one of my former students, so it was nice to see her again thru the hellfires.


Locked in the dry air of the studio was bad for my nose. I've recently had never-healing sores inside my nose, near the tip. I pick them, (because who doesn't???), and they bleed and then it's ok...and then 12 hours later I am bunged up again.
Dr Google has given me various bits of information and if I can get to a drugstore for some cream or spray or something I will. Nasal herpes? Virus from my finger nails? Something grim I am sure.


And so, my loudly protesting, gurgling stomach finally escaped the narration hell at 3 pm and took me straight downtown to a Starbucks for a sandwich, a blueberry and cream cheese muffin and a creamy latte.
Then supermarket for an easy dinner, home through more bloody snow and back to collapse before...
Dinner with Okaasan.


Joy. Pure joy.