Uh-Oh.

I really did it this time.

The Med school is on summer vacation. This is The Med School, the one I had all the fun at last year. There has been a continuous problem getting reimbursed for materials I use for an elective class despite getting the proper, prial approval and agreement on what documentation is required. It looks like it has been solved but I had to put my inkan on the corrected docs.

The weather today is the opposite of what it was the last I reported it; awful! A tropical storm bypassed us last night but pulled all its heavy, steamy, fetid air over us. It is a steam bath. Suffering terribly from the heat, I toyed with the idea of not going into The Med school after class elsewhere today. With everything else going on, it’s better to get this out of the way.

It would appear that while the muggy air did not deter me, it did many others. My favorite lunch spot, a brew pub across the tracks from the Sumo stadium, (Thanks, you know who you are.) was the emptiest I have ever seen it at that time of day. It has one of the best deals on this meal in Tokyo; ¥500 for their daily special. Shortest wait I have ever experienced there. The trains were unusually empty too, though not on the way home which was the most crowded in a long time.

With so few braving the heat and HUMIDITY, going in to The Med school was smoother than usual, except for the heat and humidity. In fact, so smooth that I arrived three quarters of an hour early for my appointment, so I found a quiet place to hide as I cooled down and dried out.

Refreshed, I made my way to the office. Well, it was actually a conference room off the office my boss reserved for she and the teacher I team teach with to work in. If cubicles exist in Japanese offices, rare they must be for I have never seen any in person, heard of nor seen depicted in Japanese movies. Desks are lined up side by side as if soldiers standing shoulder to shoulder on a 19th century battlefield but with each rank facing each other. If one wishes to speak to a coworker, they must do so in a conference room lest one disturbs the sleep work of their colleagues.

Not wanting to so soon venture out into the sauna to return to the madhouse of a home, I remained as we discussed many things, including the ex sub director, what a looney that person truly is. The coworker who just didn’t show up when classes resumed and a broad range of gossip and important stuff. After the fun stuff was discussed, a serious tone overtook the conversation. I am an outspoken critic of the textbook we are currently using. It is poorly written, incorrect with many facts, such as what menopause is, and generally as useful as screen doors on submarines. However, there are no textbooks to be found suited to our purpose. So, I was told? directed? Prodded? Suggested? AH! I was shanghaied into writing a text book for our classes….and I enthusiastically accepted. What have I done?