Saturday, March 14, 2015
Hidemi’s Rambling No.538
In the time of my school days, women in Japan were mostly housewives. It
was considered that women quit working when they get married. One of my
mother’s old female classmates stayed single and had an administrative
job at IBM in Tokyo, which was so rare at that time. To me, continuing
to work after marriage was more natural than being a housewife since my
mother went to work every day. Only, I didn’t want to be like her who
worked as a farmer in a country. I would rather have become a
sophisticated businesswoman like her old classmate at IBM. It was
necessary to graduate from the first-class university to be hired at a
large famous company like IBM. I started to study for the university’s
entrance examination when I was a freshman at high school. My daily life
had inevitably changed. I had gradually distanced myself from my cool
friends with whom I used to hang out all the time, and spent much time
with my new would-be-a-doctor friend. She introduced me the whole new
world. She was sincere, courteous and refined, and respected her parents
who were both doctors. My study days were troublesome. Because I tended
to listen to music instead of studying in my room at home, I studied at
the library as much as possible. There, I spent the time solving math
problems that I loved to do so much. Although Japan used to have a
stupid system for the university entrance exam that the high average
mark of all the seven subjects decided the school, I didn’t feel like
studying other six subjects beside mathematics. I just studied math day
and night, even floating a sheet of a problem in a plastic bag in the
tub while I was taking a bath. I knew I needed to study other than math,
but I didn’t realize my biggest weakness back then – I can’t do
anything I don’t like. As the exam drew near, pressure had begun to
seize me. I pulled out the plug of my stereo not to listen to records
and stuck the plug to the wall with a note of ‘Patience!’ A small thing
provoked my fury toward my sister with no reason one evening, and I
found myself gripping her by the throat. I came to myself when I
realized I was choking her. She told my father that I tried to kill her
and he suggested to me that I should see a psychiatrist. Every practice
examination showed I wouldn’t pass the university I was applying to, but
I relied on my IQ heavily. I believed that if my brain ran at full
blast on the very day of exam, my high IQ would wring out a high score
by recalling what I didn’t even remember. Otherwise, it would be proved
that my high IQ was a worthless, useless, decorative-only nothing
although my whole life had depended on it. I couldn’t possibly accept
that kind of notion. I refused, by any means…