I sit here watching Jota stretch and get settled. I chew Wrigley’s Doublemint and listen to radio programs from the America. Sometimes I worry about the future, but that’s mainly concern about teaching here and what it will entail. Sometimes I practice my Vietnamese vocabulary by typing out words and conversations in Vietnamese. Sometimes I just read. I read novels set in America which in turn makes me think about places that I’ve been and places that I’d like to go. Reading too much seems to make me overly reflective, and sometimes I don’t want to think too much, so then I avoid reading.
My room has gradually become more cluttered and messy, making it feel slightly more like a living space; more like a home. Sometimes I sit and think about old friends and then write half a letter, which then never gets finished. Mostly, I just end up thinking a lot, and thinking takes up so much time that when I’m finished thinking it’s time to go and find something to eat.