This past winter, when I was working at three elementary schools in Ibaraki and spending my free time sending out resumes and cover letters to every half-decent open English Teacher position in Tokyo I could find, I got an interview with a private girls' school. I took a train down to Tokyo on Friday night after work and spent the night in a small hostel. Then, Saturday morning, I changed into the most professional attire I could (black skirt with black stockings and kitten-heeled shoes, and a black Ann Taylor jacket over a white button-up shirt) and headed to the school. The interview went well, I thought. They told me about the school, I told them about my experience in Taiwan and Ibaraki Prefecture. They asked questions, I answered, and vice versa. Then I left the school, left Tokyo, and went back to my life in Ibaraki. On the Tuesday of that week, I had a free period during which I was utterly exhausted. To keep myself awake, I wrote. I wrote about job hunting, about ...