Since I have arrived back in Tokyo there have been a few aftershocks, including one that woke me up at 2am this morning. So far none of them have come close to my 30-second rule (I don’t head for the door or table unless it lasts for at least that long), but I have definitely been suffering from Earthquake sickness (jishinyoi). Basically this means that I keep thinking that the ground is shaking when nothing is really happening, a false memory imprinted on my subconscious if you will. The results of which are slightly reminiscent of those moments before REM when you have small dreams, fall over something, and then awake with a jolt. To date no one has said anything about my sudden involuntary movements, but it can’t be too long.
I am absolutely delighted to be back in Japan, and whilst I miss my friends and family, the standard of living here is, in my opinion, much higher, with even the ‘low-quality’ products still of a standard that would put most countries goods and produce to shame. I am also yet to have a bad meal during my stay here, and the general cleanliness of the place makes it just that much more acceptable for someone who suffers from anally retentive neurosis. That being said, there are certain material objects that one has cravings for, and the prospect of having to do without ‘Percy Pigs’ for the next 9 months or so was soul destroying. Imagine my delight therefore when Richard turned up on my doorstep this evening, fresh from his flight back to Tokyo, and carrying with him a pack of those heavenly pseudo-pork teeth rotters. I somehow refrained from kissing him, and I suppose that I can always pass those embarrassing lunges off as jishinyoi.