Drug addict

I'm not abusing cocaine, I promise. But I am a mochi addict.

Let me explain. Mochi is a traditional Japanese food prepared around New Year's Day. Sticky rice is pounded to create a little, round ball of yummy goodness. Some mochi is plain, some is sweet, and some mochi has sweet bean paste inside, but my favorite is the sweet, pink kind covered in flour. (Mochi is dusted heavily in flour to prevent it from sticking.)

The other day I bought some at my local supermarket, and now I'm addicted. I usually buy small packages containing four sweet, delicious, little pieces of heaven. The packages only last about a day or so in my house.

If you've never tried mochi, you should. Your life will never be the same again!

Well, the other day I grabbed a piece of mochi and headed out the door. I stuffed it into my face, hopped into my car, and headed for my next English lesson at my elementary school. Unfortunately, I never looked at myself in the mirror.

When I walked into my "office area" shared by my fellow colleagues, my vice principal gave me a strange look. I wasn't sure why she was looking at me so strangely. I just dismissed the encounter and headed to my class. As I stepped in front of the class, one of my students pointed to my face. I wasn't sure what she was talking about, so I checked myself with the mirror in my purse. I was horrified to discover that I had white mochi flour right below my nose. It looked like a white, powder mustache, and I looked like I had been sniffing something powdery. I quickly brushed away the remaining flour and mentioned to my students that I had been eating mochi before class.

Now, I'm sure my vice principal thinks I'm a drug addict.

Oh, the power of mochi!