Fevers and Pizza

AM

Least: By 10:00am, the silence in my san-Rosie apartment was becoming too much. With a fever running my mind into madness, I wished I'd had someone to complain to. No-one in their right mind would be awake before 11:00am on a public holiday, so even complaint riddled sms messages weren't satisfactory. I settled on shouting at the pigeons and at the tear in the bin liner that let fishy juice out. I can see how isolation can drive people to madness.

Most: By 11:59pm, I looked back at my morning and found it as empty as possible for a public holiday. If I was serious, I would've at least had a hangover. The most interesting thing, unfortunately was that my cheesy phone alarm infiltrated a dream in which I was watching the moon landing from an incredibly high peak. The faux-classical music interrupted the guide just as he was saying "You can now see the vapour-trails - they're 2000 feet thick and...". I wonder what he was about to say. The alarm that robs me of sleep every morning, may also have robbed me of something interesting to write in this space.

PM

Least: Sometime after 1:00pm, I began the mind-numbing process of cleaning the house. For some reason our three-room cubby is the lintiest (the lint removing business is big in Japan) place on Earth. I'm not sure where it comes from, but I blame the previous occupants - they must've owned a lot of fleecy clothing or never vacuumed -probably both (I know who they are). Being without an effective mop, I settled on a soapy towel to clean the kitchen floor, an idea that turned out to be boring and backbreaking. The pain of cleaning briefly made me forget my raging fever but I'm still not sure which is worse.

Most: By 6:20pm, my mind was turning to pizza. After failing to understand the on-line ordering process, my eyes turned to my silver phone. The problem is that my Japanese is poor to the point that I can't really work out how to order food over the phone. The pizza-drive was strong enough though, for me to attempt a phone order from Dominos anyway. I'm sure the poor guy on the other end of the phone would've been groaning ("Oh dear, I got the foreigner") but I persisted. After some shockingly awkward pauses and flipping through the phrasebook, my conversation came to an end without an assurance of pizza. Amazingly, at 6:40pm, the pizza man arrived at the door carrying almost what I ordered - the only thing wrong was that I got a massive bottle of Coke instead of a Zero. The delivery man appeared to be asking me for a coupon, which I didn't have - so I paid through the nose. Incredible.

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Food Note: For lunch, I had a meal of pre-grilled sanma from yesterday's Life Supermaket experience. I heated it up in the fish-grill and soused it in ponzu dressing. The result was delicious and little different from the ones I bought fresh and cooked at home.