The Lost Squirrel

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 19

Mornings are getting worse, think. They're early and cold and my futon is warm and soft and snuggley. I never want to leave it. Parker says that the weather won't be this nice again until March, which is a horrifying foreshadowing of the frigid winter to come.

At school, I cleaned out my desk and worked on a Halloween explanation worksheet between classes. I taught three classes with Mountain-sensei. The hard part about having my classes spread out is that I forget how the class goes, so my first one of the day is always a bit rough. Eventually it does settle into a pattern.

Mountain-sensei, like my father would, didn't recognize that I had spent HOURS decorating the English classroom. He liked it when I pointed it out to him, though. Some students are absolutely sweet. I spent a bit of time chatting with one girl telling her that I'm crazy about Harry Potter, as she said she was, too.

I ate my lunch at my desk. I'd bought some bread with chocolate spread on sale as a quick and easy lunch if I were ever late running out the door. I can't fit them in my freezer now, so I need to eat them before they go bad anyway. I had understood from the pictures that they were chocolate, but noticed that it was chocolate AND something else. I had asked a sales lady who only managed to get through that it was “chocolate PLUS something-in-Japanese.” I took a gamble for it.

When I opened the bag today and opened the sandwich, was a bit worried to see a slather of something whitish. When I was in Tokyo looking for sweets for Susanna, the teacher who helped me get my night bus tickets, I had happened to pass a stand for a shop called “pain au choc,” a store entirely dedicated to variations of pain au chocolat (or chocolate croissants, for you non-French speakers.) They even gave me a sample (probably because of my wide eyes and classy looking sweet bag in hand. It was a small piece of bread with two squares of chocolate artfully sticking out, a milk chocolate and a white chocolate. I happily accepted the offered sample and took a bite.

It wasn't white chocolate. It was butter. A huge piece of butter that now meant that I had a mouthful of butter.

The sample helped me decide I wasn't interested in their products. I'm too cheap, anyway.

But, anyway, when I saw the slather of white on my sandwich today with the chocolate, I was instantly worried this would be a huge lump of butter. As it turns out, it was a sweet creamy spread, kind of like frosting. It was tasty, if completely unhealthy.

After lunch, I planned to go home briefly. See, I had Susanna's thank you sweets at home and I wanted to give them to her today, but I'd completely forgotten to bring them! So, during my lunch break, I planned to go bike home and grab them. I only live about 10 minutes away, so it wouldn't take me long at all. I also had free periods the two hours after lunch, so there was no worry that I'd miss anything important.

But I felt like I had to ask/tell someone where I was going, just in case someone went looking for me. Mama, Mustache-sensei, and Mischievous-sensei were all out of the room. So, without telling why, I went and asked Susanna, who said of course I was allowed to go grab something. She asked me about Tokyo and I thanked her, then I asked her about Malaysia. She told me a story of a student who came running up to see her, so excited because a foreigner had talked to him on the elevator. I commented that I understood – it's how I feel! I'll give her the sweets after school when things are a bit less formal and hopefully there won't be so many teachers watching. I have sweets for Mischievous-sensei, too, so he'd better follow through on his trinket from Malaysia or I'll have no idea what to do with them.

I then went, took off my slippers, put my shoes on and went to get my bike. But I didn't have my key. I had my house key in my hand, but not my bike key. I checked the floor near the shoe lockers, in my shoe locker, and around, but found nothing. Not panicked, I went to the theacher's room and searched around my desk, but was still unsuccessful. Now I was getting worried. I searched by my desk, on the floor, in the drawers and found nothing. I walked around Susanna's desk, but it wasn't there. I searched my bag again and again, eventually pulling everything out, but it wasn't there. I dug through the garbage, where I'd thrown out the wrapper to my sandwich, but it wasn't there.

Finally, I resigned myself that it would turn up somewhere and used my spare on my key ring. By this point, Mustache-sensei was back and I had to explain my odd behavior to him. I highlighted that my keys were missing – I'd probably misplaced them – and they had a squirrel on them! A squirrel! The keys had a squirrel keychain on them! A squirrel! Look for a squirrel!

I hadn't been back too long when Mustache-sensei asked if I'd found my keys and I had to admit that I hadn't. He looked under my desk, but they weren't there. I told him not to worry – they'd show up somewhere, but they had a squirrel on them!

Not five minute later, he spots my squirrel key chain on a magnet on an announcement board. I happily grab them up. I must have dropped them while taking to Susanna, then someone picked them up before I realised and went to look. Anyway, crisis averted and mystery solved. It feels good.

I always knew I'd lose my keys. The wonder is that I never lost my Godiva keys.

I gave Susanna her sweets and she was exceedingly thankful and kind. I'm glad I got her as big a gift as I did. She was quite good to me, and has also said to tell her if there's anywhere else I want to go. I said I would, but with more warning this time!

I stayed late to work on a Halloween-themed word search. I left at 5pm and met up with Josh, Ali, and the baby on their way back from a walk. Cute baby Thomas had a cute little green hat on him. We also bumped into Edmund (formerly Brian) on our way in to the mansion's parking lot.

I had a full and enlightening, if depressing, chat online tonight.

I made mashed potatoes for dinner, which may not be the healthiest of meals, but it is amazingly gratifying.

The doorbell rang and the Japanese census lady came by to get my form. Unfortunately, I forgot to photograph it before she took it, so you're missing out on the ALL JAPANESE form I managed to complete on my own. She came by later with Edmund (now changed out of his work suit) so he could borrow my English explanations to do his own.

Edmund then came in for a quick chat and said it was obvious this was a girl's apartment because it was so clean. Meanwhile, I darted ahead to kick my dirty underwear out of sight. I showed off my new furniture and he was exceedingly jealous.

I hate pre-Nishi nights.