July 14, 2003

Another day in the office.

Another day in the office. This place is even emptier than ever now, I think there are maybe 20 people here in the whole building (we number over 800 in the building I work in). I definitely see working from home this afternoon.

The weekend passed by effectively and nonchalantly. This morning I wanted to get up and go running, however it was much too difficult to shake off the cloak of the sleeping tablet from last night. That, and I think I have been overdoing the running a bit-my legs feel as though I have metal rods soddered in them. I spent masses of time in the garden yesterday, but after accidentally kneeling on some stinging nettles, I got pissed off and wasn't much in the mood to be outside in the garden. So I settled myself on the balcony with a bottle of wine and a book, and tried to get over myself there.

I saw "Ripley's Game" this weekend, which is unusual since I have never seen the first one, "The Talented Mr. Ripley" which, according to some friends of mine, is a film that makes you want to confess things. So obviously I am not going to watch it with my spouse. Christ, imagine the mess that would occur if I opened up that can of worms! He's going on a five-day sailing trip with the boys this weekend, and so I will rent it when I have the house to myself. I wonder if it will make me want to confess things. Seeing as how I grew up Catholic, confession is second nature to me. However, I have become a card-carrying member of Catholics Anonymous since adulthood, so hopefully my need to feel guilty and take punishment for all things will be ending soon. About damn time. I could really do with not feeling guilty about everything from the Love Canal tragedy to drinking the last of the orange juice this morning.

I really love being alone at home. Me and the dog. It's nice to have every inch of space to yourself, the whole bed to myself, and best of all, I get to keep all of the windows open (my S.O. hates having a breeze in the room). I can drink chardonnay or some English ale and have egg salad sandwiches every night if I want to (and if history has anything to do with it, I probably will be.)

It's occured to me that throughout this blog, there isn't really anything to give you much to identify me as, in your minds eye. So how about this:

I am 29, and a female.
I am about 5 foot 9 inches, and although I have absolutely no desire to post my weight here, I fall under the "slender" category (or so I'm told).
I have long, very dark hair and hazel eyes.
I was born and raised in the U.S., and now live in Stockholm, Sweden, due to work situations. That, and I got hitched up to a Swede, so I plan on being away from the U.S. for a while.
I'm a vegetarian, and my favorite food is artichoke, followed by a sumptuous curry called sag aloo.

That oughta' do it. Now you're armed with about as much info as all of my other friends. I think only one other person in the world knows more about me (and he knows who he is).

For those of you with strange reading interests, I can't recommend Mary Roach's "Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers" highly enough. It's perhaps one of the most interesting and one of the most well-written books I have ever read.

-H.

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