The things we do to pass the hours and oceans between ourselves and home

I've taken an interest, as of late, to making time seem like it's going faster than it is. I'm sure we've all done this and/or have this in practice today.

Perhaps you know what I'm talking about. Imagine, if you will, a man standing at a register. He has just begun his 8 hour shift, but he is in a good mood. You ask him why, and he says "it's only four hours to my break which is only two hours before I have to do inventory which is only an hour and a half before I get to count down the last 30 minutes of this shift."

I have taken to tricking myself into thinking home is closer than it is. In my planner, I have a countdown until my but will be on a train heading towards Fukuoka. The count is 61 days, or roughly 8 and a half weeks. 8 and a half weeks is a long time to wait. So, I've tricked myself. My planner's countdown is marked on the Monday of each new week. Originally I'd counted from 12 down to one....but I got wise. For me, the last three weeks I'm here will sail by, and so, I rewrote the count to start at 9 weeks. Presently, I only have 6 weeks left...6 weeks left until there's only 3 weeks to go, that is.

(I actually used to do the exact same thing when I was a kid to count down to Christmas. I always shaved off the last three days before Christmas Eve, I didn't count Christmas Eve, and I didn't count the day I was on. If you were to compare my countdown to anyone else's, you'd notice mine was 5 days light.)

I've also taken up some other habits to help bring some home to Japan. They include, but are not limited to, playing cribbage, Skyping home every week, exercising to pass the time, working on my book, and enjoying a beer with some laughs.

One may read this and think that I am in pain being abroad. This could not be farther from the truth. In fact, I am quite happy where I am at. This being said, I must admit, Dorothy was right...there truly is no place like home.

What's the point of writing all this? Is it to voice my broken mind that others may lament with me? Maybe it's to fish for people to come to me with sympathy? The answer is neither of these. While misery does love company, I am not so, and I quite simply can not stand pity parties. No, my point is that the mind will go to amazing lengths to feel at home, or at least feel that home is nearby. Mine is 61 days, or in short hand, 6 weeks away. Where's yours at?