About to settle into my last night in Tokyo. Three months. In 24 hours I am over the Pacific again, heading back to Montreal.
I feel anxious anticipation; I wonder how I will react to diving back into my old life, which now seems so distant from me. I know that I will immediately go buy my usual mid-summer groceries at Valmont. I will go have a pho on Cote des Neiges, I will hang out at Laika and go have a drink at Boa.
I will sit at my desk, in my apartment, eating a tomato and prosciutto salad after having taken a jog up the mountain.
None of these things are bad. They are, or at least where once, all highly enjoyable to me. But they are old. They are worn in, and out. Or so I think they may be.
This is what I anxiously anticipate. I *want* the routines to be broken. I won't know if they are until I go back to where they, and I, are from, and see.
And see I will. :)
