I’m going to Japan tomorrow, I’m going to Japan! I’m more excited than Baldrick would be on finding an extra large turnip. I’m finally going to Japan! I’m 28 years old and I’ve been intrigued by Japan for at least 21 of those years, since I met Ashley aged 7. She had just moved to London after two years spent in Tokyo and taught me how to count to ten in Japanese.
My interest was further fueled by my parents, who visited in 1973, and have talked about it ever since. Add in a local toyshop that sold Hello Kitty notepads and regular childhood trips to Japanese restaurants, and an obsession was born.
And now I’m going! Three weeks in the land of sushi and Hello Kitty is mine! Thanks to a cheap flight spotted in the newspaper, we are flying to Tokyo tomorrow afternoon.
Just the small matter of packing to sort out. I’ve been really really busy getting things finished at work, so I’ve left it until the last minute. No matter, We don’t need to take much, and I’m looking forward to buying new clothes there.
OK, packing done, tickets, yup, Japan rail passes, yup, passports, I’ll just get them from the drawer…
OK, they must be here, check again. Crap. Where the hell could they be? Check again, they’ve GOT to be here. I remember putting them away myself.
Saliva starts flooding my mouth, heart pounds in my chest, breathing quickens as hot panic rises through my body. I frantically search every possible location for our missing passports. Where are they? Where the hell are they? If they’re not in the draw, they could be in that blue folder… No. Crap. What am I going to do?
Crap, crap, crap. Where the crap are they? I couldn’t have recycled them could I? Could I? Fuck.
Steve walks in the door “Hello Sweetheart, we’re on holiday! Did you get everything finished at work? Are we almost ready?” “Oh my God, I can’t find our passports anywhere, what are we going to do?” “Don’t worry, we’ll look again”.
I’ve wanted to go to Japan for 20 years. I’ve been planning this trip for six months. Six months of dreaming and waiting and dealing with crap at work all for the promise of this trip. I’ve never wanted a holiday so badly before. Now it is about to be snatched from my grasp, it’s loss it a physical pain. A tightening in my chest, nausea. Why did I dare to want something so much? Especially something as trivial as a holiday. Wanting just leads to disappointment. I will never want anything this badly again.
What can we do? Can we get new passports? My father would know… Yes and no. We can queue at the passport office tomorrow morning, but our chances of catching our flight are slim. Can we change our flight? Maybe. No, they were cheap tickets. Japan is slipping out of my grasp. Tears of loss and disappointment run down my cheeks.
“What CAN have happened to them?” Steve asks. “I think I must have recycled them when I was doing that big clear out”. “Let’s pull the filing cabinet apart, just to make sure”. Out comes the drawer where the passports should be kept. Out comes every piece of paper. What do we find?
It takes me the rest of the evening to calm down. I resolve never to want something so badly again, particularly a holiday. I’m not sure that I’ve kept to that one.
This week, Josie at Sleep is for the Weak asked “When was the last time you really, really wanted something”