Today was one of those (far too frequent) days where almost everything that came forth from my mouth was either grammatical incorrect, socially unacceptable, or a combination of the two. I can always tell when I have made an especially big blunder because it seems to coincide with our Sensei rocking slowly on her chair, cradling her head in her hands, and muttering to herself in a morbid fashion. Obviously this is a very subtle indication that not all is well, but I’ve gotten used to reading the signs. The same intuition tells me that next week, which brings about the end of my year’s schooling, will be celebrated by my teachers with all the gusto of a state wedding.
Tonight saw my participation in yet another pub quiz, and for once I didn’t come last! This victory, of sorts, was made all the more saccharine by the random selection of British sweets that we managed to win along the way; with my palette being treated to the exotic delights of a sherbet dip, the rich aromas of a drumstick lollipop, and of course the heavily perfumed aftertaste of purple violets. Unfortunately the resulting sugar rush made sleep a somewhat difficult prospect.