I'm a bit miserable.
and homesick. The more I think about it, I just want to book the next flight to Stockholm and go to sleep in my own bed. It might sound wierd. I'm in the city I love the most, working with awesome people, and with one of the few things I really like.
But it isn't that wierd I'm still longing for Stockholm. My own room, access to a real kitchen (I know I didn't really use it when I actually was home but...) , just the safety of having somewhere to go to where you can wake up the next morning, still feeling comfortable, not having to worry, "Do I need to extend my reservation for this bed?" , not having a bunch of indians muggin around with you, making you move people in to a flat full of bedbugs.
Tierd.
I don't really wanna go home. I don't want to leave the city. I don't want to leave my job. I do want somewhere to call my home, where I can put all my things, hang all my clothes, walk around however I want to and cook my own food.
This crapfood's making me fat. I mean it. And the beer. I gotta cut down on the beer. Soon I won't need me Oyster to get to work, I can just bounce there...

Just a week left to my birthday. Sad to say, but I don't have an address for you where you can send cards. Sorry.
I don't want to spend my birthday (night) at a hostel. That's fucking miserable!
Gotta find something new now.
I might as well say it, if we can't find something in the next (maximum) couple of weeks, we'll come home. So be prepared. I hope we won't, but it seems we're not getting on that well with god at the mo.
We'll wait and see. Time will tell, that's for sure.

Til' next time,
xx