Blog-nill Busyness

This has probably been one of the longest blackouts in my the history of my blog. Fairly certain of it. I would say that it’s not because I’ve been insanely busy, but because I have FELT extremely busy. You know how some days you feel like there couldn’t possibly be enough time for all the things you have to do, then you manage to do them all and feel so exhausted from the achievement that you plop into bed early? It hasn’t been like that either.

 

But I have felt really busy, because I am writing my BA in English Literature, and baby-sitting two wonderful children, writing poetry again, playing Skyrim and trying to use any left-over seconds and minutes on spending time with my husband, because it is what holds me together.

 

I realised yesterday that certain things just go once you’re too busy. Amazing super-hero couples who get children start slacking off in areas of their lives where they were always on top off the things before. Organised young women become less organised. OCD young men start realising that maybe their disorder wasn’t so serious, because the mess doesn’t bother them anymore.

 

Here’s a list of things I realised go when you’re “too busy”:

 

1. Blog.

Don’t think I need to say much here. Unless you are a very popular blogger, whose life it is to blog, who spends a minimum of two hours a day on their blog and commenting and networking… you’ll probably stop blogging for a while. Strangely enough, it’s when life gives you more to blog about that you don’t have the time to blog about it. (Though I very much doubt that anyone would WANT me to blog about my 25 page essay on Shakespeare’s The Tempest and the various forms of critique it has been subject to. Though it’s actually really interesting. It is!)

 

2. Social life

“I would love to come, but…” becomes your new catch-phrase. Often you would love to come, but there is also a certain relief in being able to hide yourself under heaps of busyness and let the rest of the world socialise with itself for a while. They’ll be fine. They may accuse you of being a hermit and boring and that you don’t love them anymore, but they’ll come around once you’re out of the bubble again. I hope.

 

3. Cleaning

Now that you don’t have people over anymore, and you are either out of the house doing busy things, or in front of your computer doing busy things, or in your bed reading about busy things… You stop noticing what your floor and your bathroom looks like. I remember very well indeed, days and weeks when I had absolutely nothing to do, which would tend to end in someone or other coming home and me trying to subtly get them to notice how shiny the kitchen had become while they were out, or how the lamps are a bit brighter, and the toothbrushes whiter… When I am restless and bored, I clean. But when I’m busy, I clearly don’t.

 

4. Personal hygiene

Or grooming, maybe I should say. Though showering becomes one of those “did we shower yesterday or the day before? Can’t remember. Can’t be bothered. I’m probably clean” things. But plucking your eyebrows turns into this ludicrous waste of time, attempting to make your hair look a little less like a sad dog before you leave the house is a no go, and whether your clothes are matchy or just serve the purpose that is currently required of them (right now warm, waterproof and covering all my rude bits) is not really a question anymore: the matchy goes.

 

5. Sleep

This should be further up the list, probably. The busier we get, the less we see those few hours of empty brain-ness as time-wasting crap. The problem is of course that the busier you are, the more tired you are, and the less sleep you allow yourself, till you just want to cry because you’re so tired but you just have to finish writing this assignment first…

 

6. Food

First, you stop cooking anything complicated that will take too long. Then, you stop cooking all the meals you used to. Finally, you live on snacks and toast. Or snack. Singular.

 

7. Health and fitness

Let’s stop thinking of this list in chronological order, because this should really go at the top. If we have any excuse in our lives to stop working out, we usually do. But with the busy comes this feeling that we can’t allow ourselves to be ill, to have colds, headaches, muscle-aches… So out of the house you go, face imploding, because you are too busy to take a break and let your body get back to normal.

 

8. More stuff

What goes for you when you’re busy? What are the first things you give up/neglect when life comes around and starts getting you terribly involved in living it? Besides your blog, of course… say your blog… it’s not just me, say it… please…

Monsatan… Monsanta… Monsanto

I’m sure none of us have done ANYTHING on our computers the last few months without reading the word “Monsanto” amongst things like “super-duper-evil”, “worse than Hitler”, “OMG! I can’t believe how terrible these people are!”, “Boycott them or die!” and so forth. Yes. I can no longer log onto facebook without the majority of my friends having posted something about how this terribly nasty, BIG corporation (you know how them being big and making money means they are evil, right?) is taking over the world one grain at a time. If you have managed to miss this, good for you.

Because this Monsanto-fever is giving rise to something else, something which has killed an awful lot of people over thousands of years. Wherever it has reared its ugly head, people drop like flies. This little something, I like to call: self-righteousness.

Yes indeed. That thing that makes a person walk up to someone and tell them how despicable they are because they haven’t made the same life-choices. How selfish they are for drinking bottled water. What a terrible pregnant mother they are for eating a single Dorito. How can they live with themselves, these terrible people who don’t walk to work, or don’t grow their own organic veggies, or don’t breastfeed their children till they’re 3-years-old?

A deep, glowing belief that your way of life is the only right and the only GOOD way is what has led to a great many “events” in world history: The Crusades, the Spanish Inquisition, The Russian Revolution and the Holocaust, to name a few. It would not surprise me if the mind-numbing sharing and reposting of things like this, this and this soon turn into “demonstration” in the form of throwing stones, bombs, graffiti etc. Perhaps some nice anti-GMO person will start shooting Monsanto hot-shots, because for some reason they think this will make the world a better place.

But hang on. The same people who are so against what Monsanto are doing today, aren’t those the ones who wanted to… what was it again… oh yes, end world hunger. Because that is the main reason for GMO in the first place! Creating enough resilient, hefty crops, that give farmers in third-world countries food and an income? Or, all these self-righteous, angry, first-world people can go the f*** down to Africa and India and into China and start helping the farmers for free, swatting bugs to avoid pesticides, farming acre upon acre of land without heavy machinery… no, but it is so much easier to just shout at some common scape-goat than to actually do something to fix the situation.

This is what Monsanto’s home-page looks like:

Monsanta 

(The morning of the 13th of June, it took me forever to get to their homepage. It would not load. Is it possible that some well-meaning anti-GMO activist feels that Monsanto are so big and evil they do not deserve a website, or to tell their side of the story?)

This is what one of the thousands of “Monsanto is the evil of the world and the spawn of Satan” web-pages looks like:

Monsatan

(Interestingly enough, the BBC are now “biased” because they made a “pro-GMO” documentary. Up until now, the BBC have been professional, the best in the biz, world-famous for their unbiased reporting.  But if they do not agree with such a large group of people, who are well-informed of who Monsanto really are, thanks to reposting stuff on facebook, they must now have turned to the dark side. I don’t blame them. We have cookies.)

And this is what good ol’ neutral Wikipedia has to say on the matter:

Monsanto

One great problem is that people continue to share these things, huffing, puffing, gasping and frowning at the audacity of this company’s actions, without actually trying to find anything out for themselves. If they do, they go to “reliable” websites, with words like “green“, “organic“, “natural” etc. in the name. Because if it says Monsanto is evil, it must be true.

I am not saying anything either way. I know that by now, I would have to read for a week straight to get any unbiased information about this company. I know that even if I did, I could not convince its supporters that it is evil, nor its opponents that it is good. Because people see what they want to see, no matter what is actually there. But I still believe that self-righteousness is a much greater killer than any evil corporation ever has been. So far.

I frown upon him, yet he loves me still

You may well wonder why I didn’t apologise in my latest post for not having written in so long. Well. It occurred to me that since I haven’t made any promises about posting on a regular and frequent basis, I haven’t really let anyone down, and so there was nothing to apologise for. And I’m rather sure that even my most dedicated readers – if I have such – do not walk around crying for days if I haven’t posted in a while. So I figured maybe I’ll stop apologising for something that doesn’t really make anyone angry or sad.

Speaking of moods and feelings, those are things that have come to me easier of late. To people who have just met me, I tend to come off as a – and here I’m quoting comments that people who don’t know me have made on my behaviour and mannerisms – energetic, happy, enthusiastic, cute, nice person. I think this has something to do with a) I can get very easily excited by very silly and mundane things, b) I tend to smile and laugh a lot, because I noticed that people who cry all the time aren’t invited to parties as often, c) I have this problem where I need people to like me so I’ll be very friendly and d) if I don’t feel like I’m up to being social and nice I don’t leave the house.

But also, and most of all, I have since my teen-years done a really good job at hiding and suppressing my negative feelings about people or events. I have a fear of confrontation that prevents me from speaking my mind on many an occasion, and I constantly worry that other people will get down or depressed if I express any displeasure or sadness when around them. So in all of my friendships, I have very few fights, and never any serious ones. The last time I raised my voice at someone I was 16 and the someone were two random kids who ran past me at a summer-fair and sprayed me with that horrible gooey foam-stuff they have in cans. (To whomever invented those things; I kind of hate you.)

Most importantly of all, it has prevented me from having fights in my romantic relationships, at least until very recently. I was worried that I, when angered, would say hurtful things that I couldn’t take back, and that mayhap my outburst would lead to a break-up, or the other person seeing me in a different light, or that they might perhaps feel really guilty about their behaviour and try to make up for it for months afterwards. So instead I would do my best to shut up whenever something didn’t feel right, whenever I felt a bit mistreated or overlooked, and I would either try to blame it on my own inadequacy, or go around harbouring this grudge for really long, and eventually bring it up at some point months later, together with a long list of other misunderstandings and slights – guys, if this sounds familiar to you, that might be because lots of women tend to do this very same thing, only some of them just put hot sauce in your underwear instead of trying to discuss the issues at a later time -, which would make my other half very confused and quite hurt. This would generally end with me apologising for my behaviour, and the issues were never resolved.

I know, very healthy behaviour. I thought this was a bad cycle that could never be broken; me getting hurt or upset, not saying anything and bottling it all up, taking it out on myself or letting the other person know way past the issues expiration date (you know it’s past the expiration date when it starts getting this funny-looking red mould stuff on it) and eventually feeling like crap for saying anything, apologising and ending up with nothing resolved and a little more guilt on my conscience.

But you know how we tend to think we can’t change and then realise one day that we have? It hit me about a month or two ago, when I just had a fight with my boyfriend (who has a blog, check it out and pat him on the back for being such a good person to fight with!). Anger and hurt had been felt, words had been said – no name-calling though, to everyone’s relief. I suck at name-calling anyway -, misunderstandings had been had and eventually cleared up, apologies made and everything was back to normal. Then it dawned on me. I had never, NEVER had a fight with my significant other before! At first I panicked for a second, wondering if this was a bad sign perhaps, but then I mentally broke down laughing at myself. How could fighting be a bad sign in a relationship? Something so normal, something that everyone does, something that is perhaps vital to a healthy relationship?

I asked the relative of a friend of mine what she thought was the secret to a healthy long-term relationship, the very day after we’d – we = in this case, me and boyfriend – had a really proper fight, and to my great surprise her answer was, straight up, without hesitation; “You have to be able to fight”. Needless to say, I laughed helplessly for a few minutes. The world is strange sometimes. Over time I thought more and more about this, and tried to figure out why this was. Why were the fights necessary, why would they be good, would a relationship work without them, what are the pros and cons? I realised rather early on that of course there are different reasons why people fight, and HOW they fight, and that these differences are very crucial.

The unhealthy fights – and please remember I have only been an observer to these and can’t really speak from my own experience, so feel free to butt in with comments and your own perspective – often come from one or both parties feeling hurt/betrayed/overlooked etc. A dangerous thing with these fights is that one or both parties feel wronged, and that instantly also makes them go “I am the victim here, you are the bad guy, and I am right”. When someone steps into a fight with the “I’m right” card taped to their forehead, getting anywhere in that argument is going to be very difficult. These fights tend to escalate into the kind of screaming profanities at the top of your lungs, packing your bags, slamming doors kind of thing. I think it’s impossible for an argument like this to end well until both parties learn to listen to what the other person is saying and give them a bit of empty space to express themselves properly in.

The healthy fights – and if you don’t think there can be such a thing please say so and why – mostly come from one or both parties not really understanding where the other person is coming from, and why they are doing/saying what they are doing/saying. In these fights, people will be upset as well, but only because they can’t understand the person they love in this instance and that always makes people sad. This tends to not result in name-calling, but rather a lot of hand-waving and the voice climbing maybe and octave or so as you try to get the other person to listen. The reason these fights are good is because there is no “I’m right” card on anyone’s forehead, but simply a “Would you mind explaining what the hell you’re doing, you idiot. P.S I love you” sign on the wet floor. In these fights, there’s an unspoken understanding that whatever the other person is doing it’s probably not to hurt you, and nothing personal, and you will probably stop being so mad at them once you understand why. You can look past the upset feelings of the fight into a future – hopefully nearby, long fights are never fun – where you can understand why, and once you understand, you just love each other more.

So no, I’m not saying that constantly fighting is going to build a stronger, healthier relationship. Nor that yelling and feeling upset every once in a while is a fun and productive past-time. But I am saying that if you can’t fight, if there is never any reason for you to fight, then you are either cloned from each other and have no individual thoughts, or you are hiding the hurt feelings and misunderstandings, keeping them to yourself and sowing seeds of resentment that will eventually make cracks in the foundations of your relationship, so you had better talk while the wound is still fresh, or it might always leave a scar there.

(Seeing as how in this post I sound like some kind of relationship-guru that’s hopped up on caffeine and narcissus-gas, I would really like your input and stories from your own personal experience.)

 

Fun competition! First person to identify the quote I used for a title to this post and tell me the name of the author and the work it was in – in the comments below, creepy phone-calls from hidden numbers are discouraged – gets to pick the topic of my next post! Not much of a prise I know, but it’s the best I can do for now, I spent all of my money on Roombas.

Feathers to feathers, air to air

I’ve had a very strange morning. It didn’t start out very strange. Well, that’s not entirely true. For one, I slept less than my boyfriend, and got up BEFORE my room-mate! Both of these things are very uncommon for me. To explain why I got up so early, I need to back up a little.

Of late, I’ve started getting aches and pains and a bunch of disturbingly crackling and popping noises in my knees, hip, back, shoulders and neck. It got worse with time so I went to the doctor. The doctor sadly didn’t say that all I need is good love, instead she claimed that if I simply started exercising more all of these problems would go away. Apparently if you experience joint-problems, running, biking and swimming is going to help, because the more stress you put on them, the better. Oh the logic. Anyway, even though I’m not entirely convinced the exercise will solve all these problems, I figured it also wouldn’t really hurt. (I wasn’t entirely correct there either, since my knees feel a little worse for the wear now, but according to the good doctor I should be getting better so I’m going to keep doing this for a while.)

So I got a membership card that covers all of the public swimming-pools in the Stockholm area, a swimsuit that doesn’t look completely indecent and went on my merry way to become healthier. I signed up three days ago and I’ve swum every day since. I love swimming, the water is calming, the motion is tiring but also relaxing and there is just something so tranquil and euphoric about floating, half weightless, in those blue waters. All I really need now is to find a time when the pool isn’t teeming with people. I’d prefer a bit more privacy and a bit more space to swim around in.

That’s why I went this morning. Saturdays they have an hour and a half, women only. So I figured that a) there would be less people there (I was wrong) and b) at least someone wouldn’t be gawking at me as I was trying to fix my joint-problem. 7:30 sharp I dragged myself hastily out of bed, had a quick shower, a bowl of yoghurt with honey and a glass of orange-juice. I checked my mail, glanced over the facebook updates and headed out the door. I was a little behind schedule, and in my hurry I almost missed it.

One step ahead of me up the sets of stairs between our apartment buildings and the little pathway leading down to the subway there was a bird. A tiny bird, lying perfectly still on the step, almost invisible in its grey and brown against the stone of the steps. I froze. The bird didn’t move, but its eyes appeared to narrow just a little. I thought for a moment. What to do? The bird might already be dead, but if it wasn’t, could I save it? I was running late for my swim. I stuck the cigarette in my mouth and walked past the bird. I stopped five steps later, cursing under my breath. I have this problem where if there is someone in need, human or animal of other kind, or even a half-dying plant, I need to help them to the best of my abilities. I couldn’t just let the bird lie there if it could still be saved.

So back to the apartment I ran, found a plastic bottle-cap and filled it with liquid honey and lukewarm water, got some breadcrumbs from the cupboard above the fridge and then headed back out, carefully and slowly so as not to spill any of the honey-water. In my head the little bird first stared at the cap to determine whether I was trying to poison it or not, then drank from it, slowly regaining health and strength until it’d fly away. I reached the steps. My little feathered protegé was lying in an awkward position, head against the ground, and I just knew. In the three or so minutes it had taken me to get the water and bread from my place and return, the little fellow had died. I was devastated, and a little grossed out. In one last, futile attempt, I put the cap down next to its head and spread the crumbs around it. I knew the bird was dead but if there was any hope, I wasn’t going to take my chances.

I went swimming and on my return the little one was still lying there. Confused as to what to do I tried calling the sup, but it being a Saturday he was of course not in his office. I then called my boyfriend, despairing over what to do. I knew I should really put it in a plastic bag and just dispose of it in the trash but I really didn’t want the little guy to go that way. No-one should ever have to be put in the trash. So after some mental dialogue, I threaded some bags over my hand and dug out a big bird-feather that Selon had dragged home one day on one of his little adventures. Back at the steps for the fourth time today, I looked, and the bird wasn’t lying next to the cap anymore. For a second, I thought someone had moved it, maybe buried it as I intended to, but then I saw him lying to the side of the steps. Like someone had just kicked him out of the way.

I gingerly picked him up with my makeshift lab-gloves and carried him off to some secluded location. I was amazed at how very light he was. I grew up on a farm so on occasion I’ve had to move dead mice from the traps, and they are heavy buggers, but this little bird weighed next to nothing, and it made me even more sad somehow. After a few minutes of walking, I saw a rocky elevation in the forest next to the road. What better place to bury a bird than high up? I climbed it, drenching my flats in the process, and put the little one down on a tuft of grass in the middle of the rise. Then I placed the big bird-feather over him. “I hope you had a good life” I told him, looking at the tiny eye, still wondering if it was going to come back to life at any minute, and then walked off.

It’s strange how something so very random, something that should be of no concern to us, can move us so very deeply, and make such a strong impression. I felt horrible over that second where I almost walked away without even trying to save this little bird, and then I went out of my way to make sure it would have the best bird-funeral in history. If it wasn’t for my joints I’d never have gone to the doctor, and then in turn I would probably not have picked up swimming, and if I hadn’t I would not have stepped outside today, or if I had, maybe at a later time, when I would not have seen the little brown and grey feather-ball against the brown leaves and slush next to the steps where someone kicked it out of the way. So the little bird is gone, but his presence did not go unnoticed, for in his memory lie some breadcrumbs on the stone-steps, next to a bubble-gum pink bottle-cap filled with honey-water.

A word of caution.

It seems to be somewhat of a trend here on WordPress to write about the past year, the way one of my favourite fellow bloggers did, regarding the lessons you learned and the things you experienced. Though in most cases when I attempt to keep myself up to date with trends, I fail miserably, I figured I’d give this one a shot. 

Tips for future me to remember

  • Yes, kittens are just as cute as you remember them to be. They are also vicious, selfish, loud, destructive and never asleep when you want them to be. And though they might be warm, fuzzy, soft, with adorable eyes and purrs and smell like summer-rain and honey a lot of the time, they can also be a tornado of claws smelling like litter-box and bad fish-breath
    Friend or foe?

    .

  • Attempting to recall, in detail, the worst nightmare you ever had, especially when alone in your home at 4 in the morning, is an absolutely horrible idea. Yes, you may be on the phone with a person who makes you feel reasonably safe and there may or may not be a katana standing next to your bed, but it doesn’t mean the panicky mess that is your brain and racing heart will listen to the voice of reason. So just don’t do that again.
  • Remember how you dyed your hair red, then dark brown, then something that was almost blonde, then dark-brown, then more red, then black and then how you tried for ages to get back to normal again? Look away from the Hazel Gold 601 missus. You are not dyeing your hair again!
  • Apparently, you can get more muscles and stamina from working out in your own home than you did when you went to the gym all the time. But without the high expense and the public humiliation. So just keep at that, it’s not so bad.
  • If you get the chance, invent a time-machine, go back to August of 2009 and stop the idiot on the back-porch from lighting that first cigarette. She doesn’t realise the gravity of her actions. Please inform her of how that puff will lead to many nights of freezing in the snow just so she can kill herself a bit more, and even more moments and guiltily moving as far away as possible from her non-smoking friends so she won’t blow second hand smoke in their faces. It’s not going to be worth it. Also, slap her for me.
  • The more you worry about your grades and doing well in them, the better you’ll do. It’s when you relax and get over-confident that you’re screwed. Also, keep double-checking with teachers when it comes to assignments and what they require of you. They’re bad at telling you that.
  • It is possible to miss people every single day. Now go get really rich so you can fly all over the world and see the people you love on a regular basis instead of sitting here missing them.
  • The end of the world will come and go many times, but the only thing that constitutes the end of the world is your own, personal end of the world. (Even if we all die, the world is pretty damn likely to go on. I don’t think it’s a big fan of us and won’t mourn our loss a whole lot, anyway.) My end of the world is the same day that books are no longer read or used. If you find me with one of those internet-book-pads in my hand, that is probably a sign of our upcoming demise.
  • Allie Brosh probably won’t write another blog-post in a long while. Don’t cry yourself to sleep over it, but rather treasure the rare times that she does.
  • Your friends are still the best part of your life and they will probably always be. So just take good care of them, and get better at keeping in touch. It’s not that f-ing hard.
  • Watching countless episodes of “House”, “How I Met Your Mother”, “The Office”, “Glee”, “Sex and the City” and “Black Books” does not count as being productive. Not even if you’re knitting while you’re watching them.
  • The blogging world is ridiculously exciting. Once you click a new post or check out a new writer, there’s no telling where you’ll end up. Be careful, be safe, but keep exploring.
  • Remember that dream you had where you had a bunch of cavities in your teeth? Go get a dental check-up.
  • You’ll turn out ok. At least if you keep thinking that you don’t have to worry so much about it.

Oh the madness!

This past week or so has been absolute madness. Between studying for my finals (which are all done, since yesterday, thank goodness!), crafting (there may or may not be hand-made Christmas-cards coming the way of certain readers of mine *wink wink*), Christmas-shopping, cooking, baking, cleaning, putting the finishing touches on my bedroom and trying to follow a new work-out regime… there has been little time for  more basic things, like eating, sleeping, breathing and blogging. “Come now, you don’t blog nearly as much as you do those other things!” you might say. But don’t be too sure.

Christmas is a time of great excitement for me. As you might have noticed, I changed a few things on my blog to make it more Christmassy. Though there isn’t a single decoration up in the flat yet, I have great visions of lights, tinsel, garlands and flowers. (The flowers will undoubtedly have to be cancelled, because the kittens really enjoy eating plants, and lilies and suchlike that are the ultimate Christmas-flower tend to be a wee bit poisonous. Though maybe if they die they’d learn not to eat plants. Just kidding.)

It is also a time of watching the Christmas-specials of several shows I enjoy following; How I Met Your Mother, The Office and (please forgive me) Glee. The latter has managed to make the worst Christmas-special I think I’ve seen so far. I’m not sure how black and white, Star Wars references, old and mostly bad Christmas-hits performed poorly and some sort of cheesy moral message of goodness and giving is supposed to come out nicely, but they didn’t manage to do it here.

Mostly it’s a time for over-eating clementines. I am addicted to these small, orange fruits. I have been for as long as I can remember. I have very vivid memories of going to my grandmother’s for Christmas, dashing to see who’d get first to the giant leather swivel-armchair – which we’d then proceed to spin around and around in till we got sick – eating all of the forbidden candy – our parents were not believers in letting your children eat conventional, regular candy – and above all, the giant bowl of clementines on the coffee-table, which I got to have as many of as I liked.¨

I see this happening, very soon.

I usually never get hit by the Christmas-stress. Yet this year for some reason, I feel like there’s not enough time left in the world for all the things I want to get done. It’s the 16th already. It’s madness. 2012 is just around the corner, with all its doomsday prophecies and – for me – bright outlook, seeing as how it’s the year of the Dragon, my sign in the Chinese horoscope. The chances of me getting into university this spring are pretty slim and hanging by a thread, depending on the authorities carrying their weight and getting stuff done for me in time (and when have they ever been known to do that???). Yet I do not feel disheartened. When there’s something in your life that you can’t do, thousands of opportunities for other things that you can do open up, things you might not even have thought of before.

How are you planning on spending your Christmas? Are you as stressed out as I am? As excited? Do you still believe in Santa Claus?

 

For the time being

I think it’s been long enough of a forever by now that I can write another post. I used to have this down to an average of one post every four or five days. I don’t know what happened. Life maybe. It’s not like I don’t have the time to write as often, I think it’s the energy that’s fading. This post is just going to be a bit about a couple of things that have dominated my life of late with their presence or absence.

Sleep

I have treated myself horribly in the sleeping-department the past couple of weeks. With a maximum of seven hours per night being the average, when I allowed myself to go to bed without setting an alarm, I woke up twelve hours later… at 4:30 pm. I’m worried that I am returning into the same old habits that I used to have when I lived on my own in Sweden for what seems like a miniature lifetime ago now. Back then, I averaged at four hours of sleep per night, so in a sense this in an improvement. At first I thought it had something to do with how my bed was placed. I moved it further into the room, then I woke up with a nightmare and turned myself around in the bed. When I still didn’t sleep any better I moved it next to the window. It will probably stay there, I don’t think it’s the bed any more. I don’t know if you guys have any theories but I have a feeling it’s this restlessness, this worry combined with the feeling of never doing enough, this feeling that I should probably be some place else and three steps ahead instead of sitting where I am and just enjoying the moment. Believe me though, I try. I consciously stop myself sometimes and force myself to just enjoy the moment and let go of any “whatifs” and “hastobedones”. I’m just really bad at it, but maybe with a little practice, I will be able to sit down and just watch a show or read a book without getting up ten times in the process to fix something or do something else.

Kittens

God has there been an abundance of kittens in my life of late! The two little crazy bundles of claws and fur and ginormous eyes have made my life so much brighter and cuddlier but also a lot more hectic. When you’re trying to get a paper done that needs to be turned in the following day, battling two kittens that are doing their best to chew off the numerous cables and wires sticking out of your laptop is very distracting and far from helpful. When you step into the bathroom only to discover one of them has decided to try their hand at modern art on the floor with their own excrement as paint, it does not exactly make you bubble with joy (I still kind of smile at the memory though). But yet these two, at only ten weeks of age, came into the 95 square metres that me and my room-mate had recently installed ourselves into. And they came into it so naturally, without any complaints, they started playing around the first evening on eventually after long discussions and arguments the little turtle-patterned female Saga realised the error of her ways and started using the litter-box as well as her ginger brother Selon. Never have I known two kittens from the same litter that have such different personalities! I mean, they’re both playful like mad, bloodthirsty, climb anything they can and can’t, cuddle and purr like nothing else… yet they appear to have two very different kinds of intelligence. When running after the cat-toy, Saga waits and calculates to then pounce and snag the mouse-like appendage with skilfulness, whereas Selon just bounces after it and often has his paws on it but let’s go too soon. Saga is a bit of a gourmand, whenever we eat she gets extremely curious and often-times after Selon has started munching away at whatever has been put down in front of him his sister will move over to the stove and start mewing in the most pitiful way she knows how. “Why do you want me to eat that crap? I know you have something better. Selon is busy eating so just give it to me. He’ll never know.” It’s still the best feeling in the world when a sleepy kitten crawls up on your lap and curls into something oddly ball-shaped, and then just falls asleep there in a relaxed lump with no resistance at all, somehow trusting that your warmth and size gives them the safety they need to sleep with abandonment. Well, the only thing more heart-melting might be when said kitten makes its way up your chest to nuzzle your face. That might do it.

School work

So much reading and writing. The lack of sleep does not make it easier. I think when you write a lot for school it makes you want to write less for anything else. But the worst part is over soon. When I hand in my paper on a book by a Swedish working-class author tomorrow that is the last thing I need to do for the first stage in Swedish. The second stage starts in two weeks but even a temporary respite is a welcome one. Then I only have to spend four days straight reading and writing about the conflict in Northern Ireland. That should be fun. Great fun. I, who never gets affected by what I watch or read, and who do not get severely depressed when reminded about the stupidity of mankind. I have to do this. Great fun. At least with the English class I don’t have any extra school work burdens; we get barely any home work at all, which might well be one of the many reasons that the class isn’t going anywhere. I can’t wait for university. I’ll get to learn things. *faint smile of hope*

That has pretty much been it for my life of late. What is there too much or too little of in your life right now? What engulfs you, what occupies your time and makes it impossible to do other things?