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Mon Mar 27th, 2017
 | 08:50 pm - Burnt-out end of smoky March
So last night with my shoulder spasming and tennis elbow grinding in response, I took a whole ativan and, no surprise, fell asleep in the side room at about 10. Woke at 5, moved to bedroom, and fell asleep till 9:30. Ativan doesn't usually do that to me; must be a boost from the anti-histamines. I had some lovely dreams but all are gone; I vaguely remember only the one from Saturday night where I was in the Tale of Genji, and the various courtiers and bigwigs were my RL brothers and cousins. (Or possibly I was Murasaki Shikibu writing The Tale of Genji; these things naturally get confused.)
The neck has calmed a bit, partly because a wonderful person did half my shift after her own one. Tomorrow should be doable; the next two days are long shifts but I'm determined to cross those bridges when I come to them and not pay any attention beforehand.
I could talk about how this time of year my mind goes back to Japan in '96 just before I left it, and how the weather today looks the same- grey, soft, instinct with growing things-- and how at these times I can clearly see the emptiness of Japan even if I still can't trace its origin or why it feels that way. But like all things Japanese, the idea fades even as I think about it. A feeling for which there are no words: which is most of... not Japan, but Tokyo for me.
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