My Life in Tokyo

I sat down tonight at 9:00 pm, determined to write something interesting and witty. I have all kinds of interesting stories in my head that I would like to share and remember. Instead, I started looking at my email and then spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to decide whether I should buy Cheerios from the Foreign Buyers’ Club for $10 a box or $85 a case, plus shipping and customs. Although Isabella would love to have them (and they’re much healthier than the Rice Krispies we can find here), I just couldn’t quite bring myself to do it. But why did I spend 45 minutes making that decision? And why can’t I seem to get myself to write in this blog again? Am I avoiding it?

It’s true that it takes a lot of time to write well about something interesting. And it’s true that I have very little free time after the children are in bed. It’s also true that I want to make more progress in learning Japanese and so I have spent more time studying in the evenings. And yet, I wonder . . . . is there some reason why I continue to put writing at the bottom of my list of priorities? Do I resist telling my stories because they aren’t good enough, or I can’t tell them all, or I’d rather not acknowledge that my life is still, quite often, very ordinary?

My latest justification is that since I stopped writing for such a long time, everyone stopped reading. Therefore, it doesn’t really matter now whether or not I add new entries. So if there’s anyone out there who is still looking at this, then speak up and tell me to get back to work!