I spent the day gradually packing while laying on my tatami mat, letting the fan blow on my face. Now clothes and gifts are scattered all over my floor and I have no more room to lay.
Something about July makes me less able to find comfort in an evening with a book and sober stillness. An evening of bare feet and losing sleep seems to make more sense.
Perhaps it is the anticipation of fireworks and picnic food that has come every July 4th of my life that makes July a month of restlessness. This July 4th was no exception. Thousands of miles from the home of the brave, I made sure the fireworks lasted through the night and I woke up with dirt underneath my toenails.
There is a high that comes from the 4th of July, when kids go to bed late on weeknights and this high lasts through July, after the fireworks are gone. In July, beach water is warm and autumn sweaters are a distant future. Even in Japan, I found mid- July activity that holds the excitement of independence. These adventures took to me an island without a vending machine, making it feel more like the Thailand I have seen in the movies than a nation rich in Louie Vuitton bags.
There is no certainty in what July will bring. There is always newness in the stagnant summer air. Though these surprises can bring anxiety it is nice to know that life is basically a series of the same events over and over. And I am glad to say that I know my favorite parts come when I am on public transportation looking out the window or at the water below the boat, thinking about how lucky I am to be in transit
But mostly when I find a new television show that I love and I can watch on the internet for hours at a time while eating microwavable popcorn.