30 going on 88

A snapshot in time: We’re nearing the end of 2021, but not, as it seems, the end of March 2020. Omikron is raging havoc on both a global and local scale, and as much as I felt sorry for the people having to postpone special celebrations during the initial lockdown almost two years (two years!) ago I am now finding myself in a depressingly similar situation. Exactly one week from now I am turning 30 in the midst of what some refer to as the worst period of the pandemic (but let’s see about that shall we).

As I mentioned in my last update, the parallel-non-corona-universe-Isa-and-Jonas would by now have completed their pilgrimage around Shikoku (interdimensional high-fives to you guys!). With calfs the sizes of a sumo wrestlers, they would have celebrated Isas birthday on the 25th of December, congratulating each other on their massive achievement.

But alas. Back in this universe, and feeling like I should at least have something to show for surviving another decade, despite my culturally-founded trepidations, I decided to get a tattoo as an early birthday present for myself:

So now, when we finally do go to Japan, I will actually be in a position to report on just how much (or how little) the collective Japanese attitude has softened on the subject of tattoos.

Obviously I am still super bummed about the indefinite postponement of this trip. And even more so about the reason for it. Earlier this week I had a dream I was back in Osaka, crying tears of happiness at the sight of those familiar buildings and the feeling of absolute freedom and wonderment they brought.

I know that, from now on, leaving will only become harder and more complicated as I settle into my new job, my new routines and the comforts brought by my new salary. To be honest, adulthood and the complacency it brings scares me. I know it’s a silly thing to say, but I fear I will wake up one day, discovering 30 more years have gone by and we still haven’t left on this trip, because the timing just wasn’t right.

I know there are (far) worse problems out there. I know, I know.

And that this, too, shall pass.

And that, one way of the other, 30 will eventually turn into 88.

2 Replies to “30 going on 88”

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