I'm afraid I may have disappointed you, by being a spoiled little brat.
I quit my job. Not because there was anything obviously wrong with it. Not because I didn't do very well. No, I just didn't like it.
More than two weeks have passed since, and I have done absolutely nothing.
I keep telling myself I'll go register myself as unemployed "tomorrow".
And I'll go swimming "tomorrow". On second thought I have a slight cold, no good swimming when you're sick, is it.
And yes, I will start looking for an apartment. But on second thought, no one will grant me one as long as I don't have a job. So, I might as well wait...
Later.
And, I should go out. Discover all the lovely hidden corners of my new city. But on second thought, it's fucking freezing. Later. In springtime maybe.
Wait! Don't go yet. I remembered something that will surely please the universe.
I am finally making music, with people. I am even singing, God forbid.
And no, not the infantile "we're gonna be rock stars"-kind of thing. This art bitch is making jazz, my friend. And even better: Bossa nova. Who does bossa these days?
Well, honoured universe, if it wasn't for us, no one would. Well no one who counts anyway.
All my fabulous plans for christmas and new year fell to the ground, and a traditional skiing family christmas in the north of sweden has taken its place. Which might not be so bad after all. Especially if my little man* is coming with me.
*I've been wondering what on earth to call this creature. Boyfriend sounds silly somehow. My man sounds far too possessive, not to mention married.
Any other suggestions are more than welcome.
Some pictures from a time when I actually put my foot outside the door.
