Meanwhile

Home is a strange thing to me. In a way I belong here.
The forests that are mine, driving along the roads in the middle of the night. Having stupid theme-partys
with best friends. Coffe at the only café in town. The language, the family, the smell om coffe in the kitchen every morning and homemade marmelade. The newfound lover, our language.

But.
Home is like chocolate. In small pieces it's good for your well-being and your peace-of-mind.
But too much could make you get high bloodpressure, die young perhaps, get chubby.
I am having an overdose of home right now. And I think if I can't go really soon
I am going to have a smaller mental breakdown. I need a challenge and a vacation.

Visa, vaccinations, all of that I've got it.
13 days left of work. 13 days left to freedom.
16 days left to leaving and
23 days left to adventure.

But at the moment I am just...
waiting.