The last week or so I have been getting emaills from people wondering how things are going for me. Although touched by all the concern aimed my way I lack the time to reply to all the emails so I thought I would save some time and write everything here instead.
Things have been running smooth up until now. I left Norway by train (going backwards this time as a sign that although the Gods often lack a sense of humor they do sustain and nourish their sense of irony) and arrived in a warm and sunny Stockholm, seemingly worlds apart from the cold and damp Oslo. I spent the few days with J, listening to Memoirs of a Geisha on mty new ipod (the only thing except for my cheap but life-saving boots that I have bought for myself since I came to Oslo) cross stitching and playiung Guitar Hero before it was time to make a trip north to visit my family on Monday.
Now, familly is fun in small portions. Ironically enough I feel I see more of them now than when I lived fifteen miles away, Now I have to see them every time I visit the area and instead of the short hours I have to stay for days. They're good people, but as a friend of mine once put it, "Home is a nice place to visit, but you wouldn't want to live there."
I am into my second day living here now. Everything is exactly the way I left it. The computer room is still a mess, the living room still looks like the back store room of a shabby second hand shop and I am surprised that the bathroom upstairs still hasn't attracted the attention of the National Ministery of Health.
I must have put in hundreds of hours of work on this place, but it is like pissing in the Nile. All my effort just scatters and dissapear in the great flood of clutter and junk. It is not dirty or disgusting in any way, it is just cluttered beyond the outer regions of Hell. I am going to make dad throw stuff away one of these days. I can barely breathe in this place.
Today is Wednesday. I am leaving here for Stockholm again on Friday, then back to Lund on Monday and then I will be heading for Ireland on Saturday. So for all of you who has asked if the move has gone well - the move is still going. The move is far from over. It will not be over until I am sitting in an Irish pub, beer in my hand, and listening to Kristina's gossip about Cork, mutual friends and new workplace.
I am guessing next Sunday.
Until then I have things to pack and unpack, audiobooks to listen to, people to see and lots and lots of alchohol to drink.
Things have been running smooth up until now. I left Norway by train (going backwards this time as a sign that although the Gods often lack a sense of humor they do sustain and nourish their sense of irony) and arrived in a warm and sunny Stockholm, seemingly worlds apart from the cold and damp Oslo. I spent the few days with J, listening to Memoirs of a Geisha on mty new ipod (the only thing except for my cheap but life-saving boots that I have bought for myself since I came to Oslo) cross stitching and playiung Guitar Hero before it was time to make a trip north to visit my family on Monday.
Now, familly is fun in small portions. Ironically enough I feel I see more of them now than when I lived fifteen miles away, Now I have to see them every time I visit the area and instead of the short hours I have to stay for days. They're good people, but as a friend of mine once put it, "Home is a nice place to visit, but you wouldn't want to live there."
I am into my second day living here now. Everything is exactly the way I left it. The computer room is still a mess, the living room still looks like the back store room of a shabby second hand shop and I am surprised that the bathroom upstairs still hasn't attracted the attention of the National Ministery of Health.
I must have put in hundreds of hours of work on this place, but it is like pissing in the Nile. All my effort just scatters and dissapear in the great flood of clutter and junk. It is not dirty or disgusting in any way, it is just cluttered beyond the outer regions of Hell. I am going to make dad throw stuff away one of these days. I can barely breathe in this place.
Today is Wednesday. I am leaving here for Stockholm again on Friday, then back to Lund on Monday and then I will be heading for Ireland on Saturday. So for all of you who has asked if the move has gone well - the move is still going. The move is far from over. It will not be over until I am sitting in an Irish pub, beer in my hand, and listening to Kristina's gossip about Cork, mutual friends and new workplace.
I am guessing next Sunday.
Until then I have things to pack and unpack, audiobooks to listen to, people to see and lots and lots of alchohol to drink.