Animal instinct

Today has been quite the day.

The freelance translation project that has kept me chained to my desk for the past four days is finally finished. I am free to move around again, away from the computer — even venture outside, if I so wish it. Which I did.

It was bright out there.

If you are a regular reader, dear Reader, you will know that I hate my full-time job. In fact, I once blogged that I hate it so much that I was sort of daring them to fire me.

Cheeky buggers that they are, they decided to take me up on that dare.

Cheeky bugger that I am, I was already halfway through the elaborate interview process with another company, the prospects for which looked quite good.

Cheeky buggers that they are, however, they decided — after two months and three separate interviews — that now wasn’t the right time to be hiring any new employees.

Aah.

knivesThe future isn’t entirely bleak. I have money in the bank, and have gotten a couple nibbles regarding other jobs. But the smooth transition I’d hoped for will apparently not be happening.

As I blogged about not too long ago, I once studied martial arts — the combative kind rather than the defensive. I gave them up when I feared I was becoming prone to violence. An animal.

It was a lot of work undoing the mindset I’d put myself in during that period.

Over a decade later, in a country in which I was not born but fully intend to die … three and a half months after having my back royally fucked up in a train cabin stuffed beyond capacity by idiots who would rather pack themselves in to the point of physically injuring one another than be an hour or two late for work … I can finally pick up my dumbbells again.

Can finally work out again.

Can finally launch kicks at 100% percent speed and strength, shooting them off hard enough to make the door rattle again.

Tonight, I am pacing my room and throwing a flurry of punches and elbows, chaining techniques into a pattern of attacks my head had long forgotten but my body still remembers. My heart pounds, my chest and forehead are damp with sweat.

I feel like an animal.

And right now, an animal is exactly what I want to be.

5 Responses

  1. thats more like it

  2. Sorry to hear about the job mate, that sucks, still hopefully there’s something round the corner.

    Very amusing post otherwise mate …. can see you doing the elbows etc at full pace …. you fucking animal.

  3. Dude. Maaaaaybe this job thing isn’t so great but check out the silver lining…. When we hang out in about two weeks you’re going to be able to hang out all day every day!

    We can both go around all over Tokyo hitting things and breaking stuff.

    Sweet.

  4. I am sure that you will get another job soon.

  5. Do I have to be the one to say that maybe that fucking keitai strap cursed your prospects?

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