The Sublime

Wondering how I will ever meet the elusive part-time music teacher at my school. She shows up surrepitiously some time on Friday mornings, when I am in class, and every once in a while I pass her by chance in the hallway as she is leaving. We've only excahnged "Konnichiwa"s and "Ohayo"s but it all seems too much to describe, and yet as beautiful as words can be. Sat through the whole day with no classes, no work, no nothing. I tried studying Japanese, pass. I tried reading a short story, pass. I tried forging through a volume called "Introducing Postmodernism," but that turned out to go in and out of my head. I read some reviews and autobiographical information on the web about Haruki Murakami, my new favorite author. I drank coffee, went for a walk, and found various ways to let the time pass away. I tried to not look at the teachers' photos too much out of fear of doting too long on Ms. Sakai's picture. I failed even that simple measure of self-restraint and self-respect. There has to be something for me to do today. There has to be.