Action without thought is empty; thought without action is blind – Goethe
While living with schizophrenia, I move between Tokyo and Osaka. Through this journal, I hope to quietly share moments from my daily life—and memories from the journey I’ve taken with my illness.
I woke up at 6:15 in the morning. When I opened the window, the sky was clear and the sun was dazzling. The room felt a little warm. It seemed I had run out of coffee. For breakfast, I had instant miso soup and rice with a raw egg dropped on top, seasoned with a dash of soy sauce. Tomorrow is recycling day. Since I had plans to go out for dinner with a friend tonight, I took care of the recycling in the morning—cardboard, styrofoam, and plastic bottles. The collection site has a roof and is built like a small shed with block walls, so there’s no concern about the trash getting ruined by rain even if I drop it off a little early.
On my way to work, I listened to jazz by Sarah Vaughan. It didn’t quite match the morning scenery, but I’ve always liked jazz. I’ve never been good at doing other tasks while listening to music, but jazz is the one exception—it never disturbs me and serves as a comfortable background. The sun was strong today. I saw some women walking with parasols.
Work was fairly busy. It took a bit of time to format the submission documents according to the client’s specifications. That task alone consumed half the day, and I felt there’s still room for improvement in that process.
This evening, I went out to a seafood Italian restaurant to have oysters with some colleagues. There were two Malaysian coworkers, one Vietnamese, and two Japanese including myself. I appreciate the Japanese colleague who invited me. It’s been a while since I’ve had such a pleasant conversation. I hope this kind of connection continues.
That’s it for today—sorry to end abruptly. Tomorrow night, I have a tennis lesson scheduled.
Tuesday, June 3rd. I woke up at 6:30 to the alarm on my phone, but fell back asleep and finally got up at 6:45, saved once again by the iPhone’s snooze function. As always, I opened the curtains. It’s raining today. The sky is covered in clouds, and I can’t see the sun. I washed my face with cold water and shaved. For breakfast, I poured soy sauce over some leftover soup and rice from yesterday, with a raw egg cracked on top. Since I got up later than usual, the morning felt rushed. I changed into a dress shirt, started boiling coffee for my thermos, and washed the dishes. Today is burnable garbage day, so I took out the trash. Thursday is recycling day, but we had so many cardboard boxes stacked up at home that I decided to bring a portion of them out today too.
With my work backpack on my back, a garbage bag in my left hand, and a bundle of cardboard boxes and a large umbrella in my right, I walked down the stairs and out of the apartment building.
The rainy commute was crowded as usual with students in uniforms. Carrying a big umbrella, I was careful not to bump into anyone. This area seems to have a solid bicycle culture—even in weather like this, people pedal along in raincoats.
I arrived at the office and climbed the stairs to the locker room. “Good morning.” Everyone I passed greeted me politely. I scanned my timecard. I’m getting used to this routine. I put my umbrella in my otherwise empty locker and headed to the office.
Today’s workload wasn’t as pressing as yesterday’s. I received a reply via email from the design team about an inquiry I’d made, and I got the information I needed. I reviewed the technical documentation once more and asked a colleague to check it over. There were 40 different technical documents in total this time.
Lunchtime. I went down to the cafeteria alone. I chose shrimp tempura soba today, with extra seaweed and green onions. I topped it with shichimi chili powder, grated ginger, and dried kelp—my usual lunchtime combo. Since I had a hearty breakfast, I only got a small portion of barley rice. Hmm… I may have added a little too much ginger. The flavor’s a bit strong. A slight misstep.
While waiting for my drawings to be checked in the afternoon, I had some free time, so I confirmed the details of upcoming project tasks with a colleague. Each client has different operational rules, so I suspect it’ll take time to get used to them. I spent the rest of the afternoon catching up on recent industry news.
On the way home, I stopped by the supermarket to buy chicken breast, carrots, and olive oil. I’ve grown a bit tired of pork lately, so I was planning to make soup with chicken. “Hmm? No chicken breast? That’s unusual. Well, they have minced chicken—guess that’ll do.” “Carrots cost about the same whether you buy one or three. Maybe I’ll get three. Can I use them all, though?” Thinking these little things over, I finished shopping and hurried home. The sky was heavy and gray. A light drizzle came and went, but not enough to need an umbrella. I’ve gotten used to carrying groceries home in a suit after work. I feel like I go to the supermarket every other day. I wonder how much I’m spending on food.
Once home, I took a bath, dried my hair with a hairdryer, and started preparing dinner. Different ingredients, but lately it’s always the same process—boiling cabbage, chicken breast (this time, ground), and chopped carrots. I flavored it with consommé, salt, and pepper for a Western-style soup. Served in a bowl with chopped scallions and a drizzle of olive oil, the chicken and cabbage consommé soup was complete. Since I had rice with egg in the morning, I fried some frozen fried rice for dinner.
Not bad. “Maybe the minced chicken brought out more flavor,” I thought. “The carrots turned soft thanks to the longer simmering,” “I used scallions because we had them, but onions might’ve worked too,” “Ginger could be nice as well.” But I’d used too much ginger at lunch, so I wasn’t in the mood to use it again.
Ahh. With dinner done, I finally felt at ease. Right now, I’m sipping a scotch and soda. No background music—I prefer quiet. I was supposed to have a tennis lesson today, but since I played two days in a row over the weekend, I decided to rest. Tomorrow, I’ve been invited to a seafood Italian dinner near Osaka Station by a few coworkers. Some colleagues from Vietnam and Malaysia are joining too. I’m really grateful they invited someone older like me. I’m looking forward to it.
So dear readers, tomorrow’s post might be on hold. Sorry about that.
June 2nd, Monday. I woke up at 6 a.m. As usual, I opened the curtains and looked outside. From my east-facing window, I could see the morning sun clearly. Although there were some clouds, the sunlight was dazzling. In the photo I posted, the large white building in the center is the Takatsuki City Koteragaike Library, which I introduced before. The Koteragaike pond, where the koi used to swim, lies just beyond it—on the right (south) side of the photo. I brought in the laundry I had hung out to dry the day before. While watching the morning news on TV, I had breakfast. Since there wasn’t much leftover rice, I made instant ochazuke with salmon and added a cup of soup pasta. Mornings are always a bit hectic, so breakfast tends to be something simple.
Once I arrived at work, I started my tasks as usual. As I worked on drawings and datasheets, a few questions came up. I jotted each one down in my notebook as they occurred. When I had a better overall picture, I gathered my notes and asked the responsible person all at once. It’s more efficient that way and avoids taking up their time repeatedly. This is my own small method of improving work efficiency.
I headed to the company cafeteria for lunch. I usually go for soba, but since I started living alone, I haven’t been eating much fish. So today, I chose something different—a fish-based menu. It was white fish in curry marinade, garlic sautéed snap peas, and ratatouille. The cafeteria usually serves rice mixed with barley, but I asked for a smaller portion today to balance out my recent high calorie intake.
In the afternoon, I continued creating technical documentation. I searched for reference materials for the drawings but couldn’t find them, so I decided to leave that part for later. Once I finished the other documentation, I sent an email to the design department requesting the materials and wrapped up the day’s work.
On my way home, I remembered I needed to buy green onions at the supermarket, so I walked with a bit more urgency. In the distance ahead, I saw an elderly couple walking together. They were likely both over 80 years old. Their backs were bent, and walking looked difficult, but they walked closely side by side. The wife spotted some pink hydrangeas in the hedge of a roadside apartment building and picked one. The husband seemed annoyed that she had taken a flower from private property and scolded her, then walked on ahead. The wife was left behind, standing sadly and gazing at the hydrangea in her hand. Normally, I would’ve passed by without much thought. But today… for some reason, tears welled up in my eyes. I quickly walked past the couple. Even on the way home, the scene wouldn’t leave my mind. I held back tears as I walked. Their image overlapped with that of my own parents. My mother loved my father deeply. She lived her life almost entirely dependent on him. My father often scolded her for it. But I believe he lived a very happy life—because he was loved so dearly by her.
It’s no good—I’m getting more sentimental with age.
Back home, I started preparing dinner while the bath was heating. Tonight, I decided to make a Japanese-style soup with spinach, pork, and carrots. I boiled the ingredients and flavored them with soba sauce and bonito broth. I served it in a soup bowl, topped it with chopped green onions and a drizzle of sesame oil—done. For rice, I had frozen fried rice. I paired the meal with a low-alcohol sparkling wine that’s been popular lately. For background music, I chose some classic jazz by Chet Baker and Louis Armstrong.
I woke up around 9 a.m. My body was completely wrecked from last night’s intense tennis session. I couldn’t get myself out of bed for a while. My stomach was growling, too. Still, I somehow managed to sit up, opened the curtains. It was Sunday morning, June 1st. There were clouds in the sky, but it was bright. I didn’t have anything to eat at home, so I put on the black Nike cap I bought yesterday and headed to the convenience store to grab a rice ball and some green tea for breakfast.
Now then, what should I do today? I was so frustrated by yesterday’s lesson that I booked another one at 2 p.m. as a form of revenge. But playing two days in a row takes a toll on the body and isn’t the most efficient way to play long-term. Ideally, I should take a day or two off between sessions. I take lessons once a week in Osaka and once a week in Tokyo at a different school. Since I plan to divide my work between Tokyo and Osaka each month, I can manage two lessons per week by adjusting the schedule. My plan is to take regular lessons on Tuesday and Thursday nights. On weekends, I’ll either use extra tickets, join a practice session with friends, or enter a match online.
As I debated whether to go through with two days of lessons in a row, I began wiping down the kitchen to loosen up my tired body. I put away the dishes I washed yesterday. In the fridge, I found a little cabbage, carrot, enoki mushrooms, and spinach. The spinach could wait a bit longer, but the rest needed to be used up soon. I decided to have soba noodles for lunch and went to the supermarket to buy some vegetable fritters (kakiage). I picked up the kakiage and pork but forgot to buy green onions.
When I started cooking lunch, I decided to skip the carrot and enoki since I already had the kakiage. Instead, I used pork and cabbage. No green onions, but the kakiage had something similar in it, so I let it slide. I boiled soba on one burner and simmered pork and cabbage on the other. For seasoning, I used soba sauce mixed with white dashi, making it into a bonito-based broth. I didn’t measure anything properly, but I always prefer lighter seasoning. I poured the broth over the soba, topped it with the kakiage, cracked a raw egg on top, and it was done. It’s the same soba I always make, but generally, cabbage is not commonly used with soba. Also I might have used a bit too much cabbage this time. It felt more like I was eating cabbage than soba. Still, I love the taste of boiled cabbage, so I tend to go heavy on the vegetables. That said, 158 yen for a single serving of kakiage felt a bit steep. Plus, it’s oily. I might hold back on buying it next time.
After eating, I washed the dishes and took a breather. There was some coffee left from yesterday, so I warmed it up in the machine and poured it into a pot. Next time I grind beans, I’ll try a coarser grind.
Now that I was full and feeling energized, I decided to go to the 2 p.m. lesson after all. I reflected on yesterday’s session. We practiced return-and-rush. The drill was to step forward just as the opponent tosses the ball for their serve, then take another step in and perform a split step as they hit the ball. From there, drive your lead foot forward and strike high into the opponent’s backhand side. Up until now, my return-and-rush was entirely self-taught, so this movement wasn’t ingrained in me. I kept making mistakes, and as I repeated the drill, I started rushing. I lost form in the basics—how to approach the ball, how to stay centered, how to rotate my hips from the pivot foot while keeping my arms relaxed and striking at the optimal point.
Yeah… it became a mess. But come to think of it, this is the path everyone goes through when leveling up their technique. Trying to learn a new movement overwhelms the brain, and things you could do unconsciously before start to fall apart. It’s the cycle of “breakdown” and “integration.” You isolate a part of the movement, refine it, and slowly bring it back together into a smooth, fluid motion. It takes time, but the key is not to panic when things fall apart. I want to believe in this process and listen closely to my body as I train.
With that mental clarity, I felt ready for the lesson. Tennis, I’ve come to think, feels less like a ball sport and more like ballet or dance. There’s a strong mental aspect too. And at the same time, it carries the spirit of martial arts. For me, it’s a very special sport. All right then—today I’ll focus on gradually increasing what I can do, without fear of failure.
At 1:30 p.m., I got on my bike and headed to the court. The sun was getting stronger. The wind still felt good, but the brutal summer for riders was just around the corner. Today’s lesson had nine participants—a big group. The content was the same as yesterday, but with three times the number of players and slower returns, I could take my time to go over the fundamentals. Even though it was the same hour-and-a-half session, my body didn’t feel as strained. Repetition is key in tennis. I want to build on this and play with more composure. The coach suggested incorporating an early split step for the first volley after a return-and-rush. That, too, will take conscious effort.
At 4 p.m., I returned home and took a lukewarm shower. I had a sip of coffee from the pot and tackled the laundry. As always, there was a mountain of tennis shirts. In summer, laundry piles up fast. The new apartment doesn’t have a dryer, so that might be a bit of a challenge. I hung everything on the balcony and, once settled, spaced out a bit while sipping my coffee. I can hear the sounds of train crossings, the Hankyu line trains passing, and buses opening their doors at regular intervals. Planes don’t seem to fly over this area much. Back in Machida, the sound of jets in the distance lingered, but not here—it’s peaceful.
At 6 p.m., I had dinner: a pouch curry and some soup pasta. I added a low-alcohol sparkling wine for a light treat. This curry was something my wife recommended. I found it at a supermarket in Osaka and bought a few for later. All it takes is boiling water to heat it up—no hassle at all. This marks the end of my day. A tiny reward and a quiet preparation for tomorrow. Work resumes again, and I’ve got a hefty batch of blueprints to finish. I’ll turn in early tonight to avoid carrying fatigue into the week.
I woke up around 8 a.m. My back left molar ached. For the past couple of days, something had been stuck between my teeth and I couldn’t get it out. I didn’t yet have things like toothpicks at home, so I’d just left it alone. But this morning, the pain was bad enough that I couldn’t even eat breakfast. I had no choice but to go to the convenience store and buy some interdental brushes and toothpicks. After some care, the pain subsided a bit. It was already around 9 by then, so I finally sat down for a late breakfast. My teeth still hurt, so I went with something soft — a cup of instant noodles.
It was Saturday, May 31st. The sky was cloudy again. I heard the rumble of heavy machinery, and when I looked out the window, I saw that a building across from my apartment was being torn down. The building was almost completely gone already. Come to think of it, what used to be there? It seemed too big to have been a regular house. I’d always paid more attention to the library and the bus rotary across the street, so I had no memory of what stood on this side. I checked on Google Maps using aerial view, and saw that it had been a large old residence with a brown tile roof. Apparently, it really was someone’s home.
I didn’t have anything in particular planned for today. With time on my hands, I decided to make coffee from beans. The grinder I bought on Amazon was a cheap one, around 2,000 yen. I poured in the beans I’d picked up at the supermarket, and as they were ground, a rich aroma filled the air. I used the grounds in my coffee machine and brewed a cup. Hmm. Smooth and mild, not too distinctive. Just the small act of grinding the beans made the morning feel a bit more luxurious. It felt like I’d treated myself to something special.
Before noon, I planned to go to the supermarket to buy some grated parmesan cheese and non-alcoholic drinks. I had a tennis lesson scheduled for the evening. Since I still had some bacon and spinach left, I thought I’d try making carbonara tonight. Lately, I’ve been getting leg cramps after my lessons, so I figured I’d load up on carbs beforehand.
For lunch, I finished up some cabbage soup I’d made in advance. With nothing else urgent to do, I vacuumed the room. I figured I’d leave the laundry for tomorrow. My closet still holds a mountain of collapsed cardboard boxes from the move. The next recycling day is Thursday, so until then, the plastic storage bins remain out in the room.
Around 2 p.m., I started feeling a bit idle. The construction noise was starting to get to me too, so I searched for a nearby sporting goods store. I found a big shopping mall about 10 minutes west of my apartment by motorbike. I changed into jeans, grabbed my helmet, and hurried to the bike parking area. Navigating the residential and shopping streets required caution — there are fast bicycles and kids darting out here and there. I basically rode at a crawl the whole way.
The sporting goods store was huge — like a gymnasium — and I was drawn straight to the shelves of tennis rackets. They seemed to have just about everything. The mall also had a large supermarket, which was super convenient. I bought a Nike T-shirt and shorts at the sports store, then picked up a retort curry and soup pasta at the supermarket — both recommended by my wife. I also got a kitchen timer I’d been wanting for cooking.
Back home, I set about making carbonara. I boiled the pasta and, during the 7-minute cook time, fried bacon in oil, seasoning it with salt and pepper until it was crisp. I cracked an egg into a bowl, added two tablespoons of parmesan cheese, and adjusted the flavor with black pepper. Hmm. It takes more than I expected to really bring out the flavor. Once the pasta was done, I added it to the now-cool pan and mixed it with the egg and cheese sauce. Thanks to the residual heat, the egg didn’t curdle. I had it with tomato soup and a non-alcoholic sparkling wine. This time, it turned out pretty well.
At 8 p.m., after dinner and once my stomach had settled, I hopped on my bike and headed out for my tennis lesson. It was a 90-minute session with just three students. I was out of breath and sweating hard. My body still hasn’t recovered from the break I took. I’ll review today’s practice and try again tomorrow. I didn’t win any points in the game-style drills, which left me a bit deflated. I took a shower and headed home.
Before I knew it, it was 10 p.m. Now I’m relaxing in my room with a non-alcoholic lemon sour. My father’s funeral had left me feeling detached from reality, but at last — albeit slowly — my new life in Osaka seems to be getting underway. Oddly enough, it feels a bit like I’m reliving my student days. Maybe keeping this journal is helping ease the loneliness of living alone. I’d meant to use this diary to talk about the past, but somehow… it still doesn’t feel like the right time. That’s the sense I get.
Friday, May 30. The sky is clear, with just a few thin clouds. According to the forecast, the temperature will drop later in the afternoon. Still, I can feel it getting warmer day by day. Even so, it’s not hot enough to break a sweat while walking. So far, I’m not feeling any fatigue from yesterday. Since I had meetings today as well, I had a hearty breakfast to avoid running out of energy. Lunch was curry, so that was another big meal.
During my lunch break, I reflected on yesterday’s tennis lesson. There were two other students besides me, both of whom had powerful shots. One in particular was a heavy hitter, and their shots were not only fast but loaded with spin. The impact made my racket shake. It’s been a while since I’ve had that kind of experience. My racket is indeed lightweight and prone to being overpowered, but it’s easy to handle and lets me prepare quickly. I’ve always felt that if I catch the ball on the sweet spot, it wouldn’t get pushed back much, even without extra force. Still, I’ve been practicing less recently, and I’ve had a bit of a break, so maybe it couldn’t be helped. But I need to figure out why I wasn’t able to hit the sweet spot if I want to do better next time.
I suspect it was because the ball, with its heavy spin and power, behaved unpredictably after bouncing—either stretching forward or bouncing high—which made it hard to read. That delayed my reaction. Also, my footwork was a bit sluggish, likely due to the break, and I couldn’t position myself properly. Maybe I wasn’t watching the ball closely enough either. Hmm. I guess I just need to increase my practice and improve my ability to adapt.
Thanks to the extra calories I took in, I managed to get through work today despite the fatigue from last night’s lesson. When I got home, I took a bath right away, then made a spinach and bacon cream pasta. I’d roughly learned the recipe from an AI. Maybe I used a bit too much flour? And perhaps I went overboard with the pepper at the end. Still, the milk thickened nicely, and it turned out delicious. I served it with a Japanese-style soup made from cabbage and spinach that I’d prepped yesterday. For a drink, I chose a non-alcoholic white sparkling wine. I messaged my mother and learned that my wife had cooked dinner and was keeping her company. I’m deeply grateful for that.
I ate well today. Both my body and heart feel a little more satisfied. And sometimes, a day like this— is not bad at all.
Thursday, May 29th. I woke up before six this morning. Since I had forgotten to cook rice last night, I had instant tomato soup and frozen fried rice for breakfast. When I opened the window, I was met with a cloudy sky. According to the weather forecast, it would start raining by tonight. The temperature was on the cooler side. I could hear the sounds of trucks and Hankyu trains passing by.
I brought in the laundry I had hung out yesterday and picked out a white dress shirt to wear. I had a tennis lesson scheduled after work today. Since I would be going by motorcycle, I might need a rain suit.
With the large umbrella I recently bought at the station in hand, I headed to the office. Since the company’s umbrella stand is full of similar umbrellas and there’s a high chance of losing mine, I stored it in my locker.
Today, there was a scheduled handover meeting for a project I’m in charge of—transferring responsibilities from the sales department to the design department. As I had to lead the meeting, I reviewed the specifications and drawings once more. I was truly grateful not to feel unwell like yesterday. Just being able to move my body makes it feel like the day is starting off calmly.
I cleared up any unclear points with the relevant members before the meeting. It had been a while since I led a meeting, so I was a little nervous, but I managed to guide it through smoothly.
I left the office at 5:00 p.m. The sky was still bright. Though it was cloudy, the rain hadn’t started yet. After getting home, I still had a bit of time before heading out for tennis, so I cooked a cup of rice and began prepping cabbage soup.
I had been thinking of trying a spinach and bacon cream pasta soon, but since I had a lesson today, I decided to go with something I was used to making. Last time, I made cabbage soup with a Western-style consomme base, but this time, I used soba noodle sauce, white dashi, bonito broth, and sesame oil for a Japanese-style twist. I was in a bit of a rush, so I ended up making more than I meant to. Well, it should be good for tomorrow’s breakfast and as a side soup for the pasta in the evening.
After getting the soup ready to be reheated later, I headed off for my tennis lesson. I took off the sunshade cover from my motorcycle for the first time in a while and hopped on. Since I had some extra time, I took a leisurely ride through the town of Tonda.
Tennis school levels seem to vary depending on the region. When I lived in Machida, I was in an advanced class, but here, I’m in an intermediate one. That said, the intermediate class at this school is tougher than the advanced class in Machida. Today, there was just one young coach and three students, including me, which made for a very engaging and satisfying practice session.
After coming home, I took a shower and had the cabbage soup I had prepared earlier along with a bowl of rice topped with a raw egg. For a drink, I went with my usual Scotch. In the end, it didn’t rain after all. I put on some music, and now I feel completely relaxed.
Still, since I pushed my body quite a bit during the lesson, I decided to go to bed early to make sure I can wake up properly tomorrow. I want to create a routine of playing tennis every other day, so I need to get my body used to today’s schedule.
It was a busy day, but emotionally, it felt calm. I feel like I’m being gently supported by the quiet rhythm of everyday life.
Yesterday was the company’s welcome party. We drank late into the night, and I ended up sleeping in and taking a half day off. At my age, acting like a new hire is… not ideal. I slept until around 11 a.m., so I wasn’t feeling sleep-deprived, but I hadn’t eaten anything, so I was hungry. After a quick shower, I left home around 11:50. Walking my usual route to the office under the midday sun, I could feel the heat.
I arrived at the office during lunch break, apologized to my boss, and headed straight to the cafeteria for a bowl of soba.
I wasn’t feeling great, but I assumed it was just a hangover. Sure, I drank a fair amount at the party, but I thought I’d kept things under control. Still, something felt off—this wasn’t the usual day-after. I tried to work, but couldn’t concentrate at all. The discomfort in my body gradually worsened. My head felt fuzzy, and I started to lose focus. Even walking felt unsteady. That’s when I thought, “This isn’t normal,” and checked my medicine box.
That’s when I realized I had forgotten to take one of the three pills I take every night for schizophrenia. Sometimes I miss all three, and when that happens, the symptoms are more obvious and I notice right away. But missing just one? That’s rare. The unfamiliar sensation threw me off.
I took the forgotten pill with some water, and within about 30 minutes, my body returned to normal.
Schizophrenia is a condition that doesn’t go away. These three medications are the result of years of trial, error, and careful monitoring with my doctor. It’s taken decades to arrive at this combination. These days, I’ve recovered to the point that I almost never think about the illness—but even missing one day’s dose throws my body into turmoil.
When I skip my meds, memories from my most difficult times come rushing back, leaving me with a deep, heavy feeling. Moments like this remind me just how much of a miracle it is that I can live a normal life and go to work.
After work, I went home. Dinner tonight was frozen gyoza over fried rice. I realized I didn’t have a clean dress shirt for tomorrow, so I did laundry while running a bath.
Since it was a hot day, the fan I’d bought the day before yesterday felt especially pleasant after my bath.
Tuesday, May 27th. The sky is bright today. I stepped out of my apartment, took out the burnable garbage, and headed to work. The ten-minute walk for my commute is now a familiar routine.
Yesterday, I checked my pedometer and found that including the walk to and from work, plus climbing the stairs to the 6th floor of the headquarters building, I had surpassed my daily target of 5,000 steps. My total calorie burn reached 2,500 kcal. Reaching those numbers on a day without playing tennis or any particular workout means that just going through my normal routine provides a decent amount of physical activity—an encouraging sign. If I manage to balance my intake of protein, carbohydrates, and vitamins, I think my overall physical condition will improve further.
Tonight, there will be a welcome party for the new members of our department, including myself. I canceled my tennis lesson for the evening and rescheduled it for Thursday night. I’ve missed several lessons lately, so I have quite a few make-up sessions to do, but if I use the weekends wisely, I should be able to catch up soon.
These days, websites for finding tennis events are also well developed. Since I’m now living in Osaka, I’d like to start building new connections here as soon as I can.
Monday, May 26th. The sky is overcast again today. After breakfast, I filled my thermos with coffee and headed to work. It felt a little chilly for this season. I crossed the railroad tracks and made my way through the shopping street toward Settsu-Tonda Station. I left home around 7:30, and at that hour, the streets are crowded with students on bicycles and office workers in suits. Beyond the station, the narrow alleys leading toward the company naturally form a line of people heading in the same direction. With about a thousand employees working at the Osaka headquarters, the morning commute always becomes a procession. I recently noticed that many of my colleagues wear very casual clothes on their way to work—T-shirts, jeans, and such. Since we change into company uniforms once we arrive, there’s no dress code for commuting. Having only visited headquarters on business trips before, I was used to wearing a suit, so I felt a bit out of place.
As soon as I arrived at the office, I greeted the president, division head, and department manager to thank them for sending condolence telegrams for my father’s funeral. Perhaps it was just a formality for them, but I deeply appreciated it. Once the workday began, my mind quickly filled with project outlines and technical documents. The sounds of typing, mouse clicks, distant conversations between engineers, sales reps talking with clients on their phones, and documents being printed— the office was filled with the noise of work. Unlike working from home, being in the office makes me feel firmly grounded in reality.
Just then, a LINE message came from my mother and sister. The city hospital had called the house in Tokyo to let us know that my father’s hospitalization certificate was ready for pickup. I exchanged a few messages with my sister, but the conversation ended midway. It stayed on my mind, but I got swept up in work and couldn’t get back to her. A few colleagues spoke to me about my father’s passing. Before I knew it, the workday had come to an end.
Since I had wrapped things up, I left the office on time. Even at 5 PM, the sky was still bright. I always find summer evenings hot after a bath, so I stopped by a home improvement store on the way home and bought a cheap fan. Then I picked up some chili oil from the supermarket to go with frozen dumplings I plan to eat tomorrow.
Back in my room, I turned on the orange light of my desk lamp. I played some jazz on the new audio system and made cabbage soup in the kitchen. I poured soy sauce over rice with a raw egg on top. Lately, I’ve been drinking more than usual, so I kept the Scotch to a minimum tonight. I sent a LINE message to my mother asking if she was able to pick up the hospitalization certificate, but there was no reply yet. It was 7:30 PM. At that time of day, she’s probably in the bath. My wife likely hasn’t come home from work yet.
Around 8:30, my mother finally replied. I had only waited an hour, but part of my heart had been quietly unsettled the entire time. It would be a lie to say I don’t worry about my mother, now alone after my father’s passing. My wife works on weekdays, so she spend most evenings alone in her room.
Later, my mother messaged me again to say that my wife had helped her fill out documents to change the name on the home fire insurance policy. Knowing that—despite always voicing frustrations about my mother—my wife had helped her out made me happy.
For now, I plan to stay in close contact with both of them. Perhaps, by cherishing each moment like this, little by little, my everyday life will return.
Canon's Diary 