It was time.

There wasn't any clock to peek at so I kept my eyes shut.

I just knew it was time.

Half awake, half asleep, I struggled. Five more minutes, I promised.

I tried to get back to the last dream sequence. I couldn't. The poke of consciousness suspended all thoughts.

My bladder summoned, too.

And so it was time.

Wake up!

I stood and pulled the door open; Sunlight pierced my eyes.

Forced by habit, my mind directed my feet to the toilet while recollecting the last thread of the dream before. And as the burning pee was released, so was any hope of ever remembering the dream and what became of it.

I was awake; Fully conscious.

Like a newly gassed-up machine, my mind began to churn to think. And so I reckoned the toothpaste was nearly drained; the sink was a bit dirty; my hair was a mess, and; the clock ticked 10.13.

Then it hit me. Today's April.

I have been three months old in New York — the longest, by far. No wonder I got sentimental yesterday and sorely missed Japan.

Thinking back, I knew I know I am getting older in New York. The signs of an accustomed me were all around — half-consciously condoned and overlooked: I know which corners to turn to, what streets to pass by, and what landmarks to watch out for when driving around the suburbs; I get discounts from and exchange pleasantries with the corner deli neighborhood store owner; I cut my laundry time in half and operate the machines like a pro; I breeze through the self check-out express lanes in supermarkets with utmost efficiency (cash or card); I know what program is on and which channel to tune into at any given time and any given day (no need to surf!); I need not offer directions to the Chinese Food delivery guy; I mean Manhattan when I say 'city', and; I'm on a first name basis with everyone else.

Well, these will all end in a few more weeks when G and I return to Japan. Yes, to reinforce last words in my previous blog entry, I'll miss New York, too by then. But today, I'm just blending in.