And then it did. I went to the station area yesterday to check things out. Many stores are closed; their staff can’t get there because of the sporadic train service. My work is decidedly non-vital so this week has all been canceled. We’re on forced vacation but unfortunately there’s nothing to be jubilant about. The supermarkets are almost eerie; there’s nothing much left and many of the lights are turned off to conserve electricity. Oddly, the things that are gone are things I never buy anyway, like white bread and instant noodles. There’s still plenty of cheese. I filled the freezer with meat and we’ve got pasta and rice, so we’ll be OK for a while. Nuclear meltdown is a frightening thought but there isn’t anything we can do about it. We can’t leave the kitties and don’t have any place to go anyway. And sissy that I am, I can’t stop crying. There was a really long aftershock yesterday, not much movement but I could hear the earth groaning for about ten minutes. There’s a carpenter’s shop across the street. He drives a big truck that makes almost an identical rumble and it scares the beans out of me every time I hear it. But all whining aside, apart from being really scared, we’re still OK. It all seems strangely removed from us. We don’t know anybody up north, so even though the destruction is so near and so immediate, it doesn’t seem to have much to do with us, except for the way it’s effecting our daily lives here. My normal outlet for this kind of stress would be the gym, but it’s closed until further notice.
I have no words of wisdom; one doesn’t really learn anything from something like this. I should, but don’t, feel insignificant.