Too tired to write. Too tired to sit up properly, actually; am lying in a semi-vertical position on a futon, waiting to get the energy to climb back down ladder from loft* to go to the toilet. Considering some kind of bed pan, because knees have locked again. Five classes (back to back without toilet breaks: probably why my bladder has sealed up), 7 hours of teaching plus three hours preparation, one mouthful of pasta, one punch in the face, one smack on the arm and eighty three loud and imminently arthritic knee clicks and I'm just about ready to a) climb into my teeny tiny Japanese bath and drown myself b) burn all of my school books on large bonfire and then get fined by Yokohama government for polluting atmosphere, and c) get every single one of my baby making tubes tied, in no particular order. 

Compensated for lack of time to eat with three packs of crisps and four chocolate bars before and after day. Forcing junk food into pre 9am and post 10pm slots is not on any dieting manual I've seen recently, frankly, so if I don't render myself broken with joint problems, I'll be so fat somebody is going to have to roll me home. 

Will write more when properly awake and legs can move, if do not fall down ladder in state of semi-paralysis.   

*PS mum: yes, I have a ladder up to my bedroom. Please don't worry, bed is far from edge. And am very careful climbing. And hold on tight and do not swing down from ledge with hands. In fact, apparently I look like a sad little baby monkey, clinging on to the edges and pouting.