Heading back to Stockholm and the road ahead is pretty straightforward. The hills on either side are covered in snow and the bus is not packed. I’m on my way home from a short trip to friends down in Småland for a belated thanksgiving dinner. I’ve celebrated with them for the past six or seven years, maybe longer, when I’ve had the chance; they used to live in Stockholm but moved down to Småland a few months ago. Always good to see them, they are almost like my aunt and uncle, or a second pair of parents. The dinner was good – an American dinner with all the trimmings. I got here yesterday and I’m still full today.
The bus trip takes about four hours. It’s not too bad, and as I’ve mentioned in previous posts, it’s like having your own private chauffeur. Thanks to that I was able to finish a huge work project on my way down. That was a nice relief; getting stuff done while on the move is a lovely feeling. And, going back home, as I am right now, I’m writing this blog post. Quite lovely too.
It’s funny because whenever I do stuff, drama seems to follow. I’m sat on seat 3C as we speak – the same seat as on my way down yesterday. And on seat 3D was an older lady, around 60. She was nice and I wished her a Merry Christmas when she got off about an hour later. And the man sitting on the row behind us was a businessman, around 50. He had missed his train to Göteborg. Well, it was cancelled. So he booked a bus ticket. As I was getting on the bus, the older lady stood up to let me sit down, and while she did that, she accidently knocked her backrest a bit too hard, causing the businessman’s cup of coffee to spill on the floor. He would let us know about it in a moment.
Obviously his day just got even worse. In the midst of him having his traumatic experience, I was getting comfortable in my seat, sharing a few words about where I was heading with seat neighbour. And the businessman says to us, “Excuse me, did you notice what just happened? I spilled my cup of coffee!” We turned around and said, “Are you okay?”
What else were we supposed to say? Was he expecting a prize, or perhaps a selfie? Maybe he was expecting a hug. But he was okay in the end. Although he did talk rather loud in his phone a couple of times during the trip, trying to let everyone know how cool he thought he was. That’s how I knew how he ended up on the bus.
Now it’s 15.24 and the bus left at 14.40. I’m going to take a break and I’ll finish the post when I get back home to Stockholm.
It’s Monday, about 18.49, and I didn’t manage to finish this post as planned. That’s why I’m finishing it now, two days later. I like doing these “travel through time” posts. Maybe I’ll do more. When I got back to Stockholm on Saturday evening, I went over to my sister’s place to help them bake some food for their “baby sprinkle” the day after. No, I didn’t either know what “baby sprinkle” was. Well, maybe you did. I only know what ice cream sprinkle is…
Song of the day: The Calling – Wherever You Will Go