Today at school we were presented with a bit of treat. Working in pairs we were asked to provide explanatory captions for 12 pictures, which when placed in order told a chronological story. Given my level of Japanese, something along the lines of a trip to the airport or a visit to the sea would have been just about doable. So when we were asked to explain the formation of life on the planet, using a reference scale of a single day to emphasise the fragility of man, I was a little taken aback. My saving grace was that it was pair work, and so whilst my partner busied herself with constructing a mini thesis, I chipped in with the odd Noun and nodded sagely, trying desperately to give the impression that I knew what the hell was going on.
I need to stop eating Mabu Dofu! Ever since Ben taught me the recipe for it a couple of weeks ago it seems to be all that I have eaten. One of the worst aspects of suffering from (self-diagnosed) obsessive-compulsive disorder, apart from having to pull a certain face when locking the front door, is that once I discover that I like a dish I have to keep on eating it until I get sick of it. This normally happens after about ten days or so, but the problem with Mabu Dofu is that it is just so damn tasty! I’m going to have to stop soon though, if only because the women in the supermarket keeps giving strange looks as I bring yet another identical basket full of groceries to the checkout.