My sleeping schedule is thoroughly lopsided. Up by 10:30 or so. Asleep by 3 with a pile of books around my head. The sun sets at about 4:30 now so the light pouring down through my window already has that early evening feeling by the time I'm showered and getting ready to work.

Packing last night until 1:00 am — I have plans to move the day after Do You Know is due at the printers. It feels so good to be throwing things out and boxing stuff up. A nice contrast to spending all day building and adding to something. Then off through the cold night air, down Japanese backstreets, along the Kanda river, behind the Four Seasons hotel, past the homeless sleeping on the river's edge and over to my girlfriend's house to hop in a giant tub and read a forgotten book I had turned up in the packing process: Designing Books by Hochuli and Kinross. Asleep by who knows what hour on the floor, wrapped in layers of futon with notes strewn about.

Up this morning at around 11. Down into the giant, white-floored living room. Heat some tea and sit down with Hochuli again for a bit. Tomomi pops out and, since it's already 11:30, we decide to skip breakfast and head right down the road to Kagurazaka for a French brunch.

On bikes. Freezing in the shadows, warmer in the sun. A white haired French giant screaming "Se Bon! Se Bon!" at his employees greets us and we sit next to an old couple. They smell like my father's late mother and for a moment I'm thrown back into my childhood.

Don't speak French so I read the Japanese half of the menu. I go for a sashimi-esque salmon and hotate salad and a steaming pot of meat and beans. Substitute wine for espresso. It's all good — it always is. Even if the stew was a touch salty.