Why Fishes Float

Today is officially payday. The money was in the bag, aka my account, by Tuesday but not touchable until today. I was about to gigglingly withdraw a sum for food and fun before a friend warned me: early withdrawal equates to heavy fines. So I tightened my belt and mustered through till today. Which is fine, because money means joy rides through the grocery store. I have little self control when it comes to food. I am, essentially, an anti-Gandhi. I don't know how he did it because I worship at the Church of Food. Shiny labels, fancy packaging, delicious pictures - I am weak to all kinds of grocery store propaganda. Especially things that look sweet or chocolaty - I have no talent or creativity for cooking. That part of my femininity I left in the uterus.

I have money. I have food. Finally, I feel like I can relax and stretch my wings out and fly without strings. In celebration, I've decided to visit all the cafes in town (or as many as I can) over the course of my stay. My first stop was Cafe Kolm. I'd been there before but had never ordered a meal. When I arrived around 11am, there were only a few people and so I sat down, ordered a Cafe Latte, and opened up my neglected Japanese textbook. I ordered something... alright, I just pointed at the days special and asked for that. Something in Italian, something relatively inexpensive - I am very lazy.

The food was decidedly mellow and could be filed under: hot, oiled, and plain. It was not a problem because I have no qualms with such food. It was an experience. I stayed at the cafe until it filled to bursting with smoke and then I left. My long hair smells like an ash tray. It's a sticky souvenir that I just can't seem to shake.

And now I am full, drowsy, and oppressed by gray skies and rain. Tonight I have sports with some teachers, which requires 20min of walking in the rain. All in the name of blood, sweat, and tears! (those teachers play with attitude - talk about competitive!)