Exile, also known as summer break.
I spent my last week in Uppsala watching football, playing football, drinking beer, sitting in the sun, walking around in the sun, finishing my final exams (HOOYAH!), spending time with Mum (who'd driven all the way from Ljungby to pick me up), and pendulating between "walking-on-clouds-happy" and "deflated-like-a-pancake-gone-wrong".
I have to admit that I didn't at all feel like leaving Uppsala and going to Ljungby this morning. I practically dreaded the moment of our departure. It felt horrible, having to leave the city I love and the people I love in order to go to a small town five hundred kilometres away. I mean, Ljungby isn't exactly the centre of the universe, and I don't even refer to it as "home" anymore.
However, I've come to terms with my situation, and I've had a lovely day:
After having driven for about six hours -- Mum and I took turns at the wheel and whiled away the time singing silly songs -- we stumbled out of the car into our front yard. I immediately darted to the library to get me some books and then I spent almost an hour in the garden playing football with Dad. I managed to shoot down only one flower, which must be a record of some sort. Usually I kill off at least ten.
I spent the evening snuggled up in the couch on the porch, reading and cuddling the cat.
Plus, the weather is warm and sunny and the air is practically saturated with the smell of flowers. Quite unlike Uppsala.
Tomorrow I'm leaving for the very south of Sweden, where Mum and I will spend six days biking, walking, and -- hopefully -- lying on the beach enjoying the wonderful weather. (Or possibly huddling indoors, enjoying the sound of rain pouring down outside, but that's fine with me.)
Vacation, I love thee...
I have to admit that I didn't at all feel like leaving Uppsala and going to Ljungby this morning. I practically dreaded the moment of our departure. It felt horrible, having to leave the city I love and the people I love in order to go to a small town five hundred kilometres away. I mean, Ljungby isn't exactly the centre of the universe, and I don't even refer to it as "home" anymore.
However, I've come to terms with my situation, and I've had a lovely day:
After having driven for about six hours -- Mum and I took turns at the wheel and whiled away the time singing silly songs -- we stumbled out of the car into our front yard. I immediately darted to the library to get me some books and then I spent almost an hour in the garden playing football with Dad. I managed to shoot down only one flower, which must be a record of some sort. Usually I kill off at least ten.
I spent the evening snuggled up in the couch on the porch, reading and cuddling the cat.
Plus, the weather is warm and sunny and the air is practically saturated with the smell of flowers. Quite unlike Uppsala.
Tomorrow I'm leaving for the very south of Sweden, where Mum and I will spend six days biking, walking, and -- hopefully -- lying on the beach enjoying the wonderful weather. (Or possibly huddling indoors, enjoying the sound of rain pouring down outside, but that's fine with me.)
Vacation, I love thee...