Time really does move differently when you’re enjoying yourself.

Last week marked the beginning of training for my new job, and with it, the quiet shift from arrival to living. It also came with a goodbye as my friend from America, who helped me land softly in Japan, headed back to the states. Suddenly, everything got a little quieter. A little more real.

And a lot more mine.

Tokyo has been wrapped in that early spring drizzle lately, which honestly, I love. The rain smell so sweet here – it reminds me of the spring-time thunderstorms I experienced as a child in Montana. Mornings start cool, but by afternoon the city warms verging on the brink of sweat.

My apartment continues its slow transformation: Black furniture with little bursts of color that allows for Rainbow Brite, Jem, and Sailor Moon to coexist peacefully with Ah! My Goddess, 2gether, and Wonder Woman. Every item placed with simple intention: this makes me happy.

Daiso is a labyrinth of solutions I didn’t know I needed for problems I didn’t know I had. Storage bins, hooks, organizers… all purchased with the intention of making 109 square feet feel like home without feeling like you’ve walked into a horder’s den.

And it does.

Though, while FamilyMart has been holding me down with those dangerously addictive sandwiches, I fear I cannot build a life solely on egg salad and Pepsi. I’m going to need to to purchase some sort of cooking equipment – maybe a rice cooker and and air fryer.

Dinner at Torikizoku which is connected to Ohkura Tadayoshi (of SUPEREIGHT)—was everything you want yakitori to be. Smoky, savory, and absolutely delicious. I’ve met some of my neighbors, had a few dates, and started to recognize the rhythm of the area around me.

It’s no longer unfamiliar. It’s becoming mine.

At the same time, the world I left behind hasn’t stopped spinning. News from the U.S. drifts across my screen in waves, each one heavier than the last. And while distance doesn’t erase concern, there’s something about being here, grounded in the present, that makes it easier to breathe through it.

To choose joy anyway.

Which is good, because this next week, everything will shift again. The training wheels are coming off and I will officially start working. On my own.

My office is in Shibuya, right at the heart of the scramble – the business pedestrian intersection in the world. Which is just as amazing as it is terrifying.

There’s something electric about knowing that this is where my days will unfold now. Between quiet mornings, crowded trains, and whatever unexpected moments Tokyo decides to hand me next.

I can feel it already.

The adventure is about to level up.

More from this new world soon so…

Stay tuned.!