Yesterday afternoon was lovely. Sitting outside, the hot sun baking down on the basking Stockholmers. Swedish summers can either be incredible or horrible. You either get day after day of chilly, rainy, hate-my-life weather or day after day of uber-blue skies that are the endless settings for fun-friendly beer commercials.

I went to a picnic with my co-workers and their families, complete with numerous young children. I took my partner and my dog. Family enough for me. It was weird and comfortable to be around so many sprogs. Running around, complaining, tackling their parents for hugs, being at once enchanted and horrified by my dog. Confess I started longing for a sproglet of my own, but then remembered how crap I am at handling life, so perhaps it's best that I refrain from producing more Dr. Phil fodder (does anyone else out there think he's an arrogant, egotistical, entirely unsympathetic bastard, or is it only me? If he were my therapist, I would've killed myself ages ago. Not as though he would have cared.)

It was so nice to just lay back on the blanket, sunglasses firmly in place, and let the sun push me down onto the ground, holding my shoulders down and forcing me to be massaged by its warmth. I hadn't realized how thirsty I was for heat. I don't usually go for laying down in the sun, since I am not good at holding still for very long. Same reason why I don't like fishing. I can't stand to be confined to one spot or in one position for any period of time. I am not a fun person to sit next to on an airplane, that's for sure-not unless you like a squirming mass sitting next to you, constantly trying to fold her colt-like legs in an itty-bitty sitting space. It's ok for Julia Roberts to have such long legs, she can handle them gracefully, but the rest of us are forced to mimic praying mantis scoping for better leaf space.

Laying there, my eyes closed and my imagination wandering, I had lovely images of quaffing some chardonnay, sitting there with my head on a man's lap, and being able to look up and see him looking down, blue eyes agog and hints of naughty blanket action on the menu. Then reality set in, and I remembered that this is not the case. Not only do I have a bit of a no-go relationship with my partner (sometimes I have to remind myself of the situation I have gotten myself into), but you can't pull any action with people around.

One of my friends told me it's his experience that people, when exposed to the outdoors, get quite frisky. Sexually, of course. I think this is likely the case. I'm not sure if it turns me on or not, suspect further experiments will need to be carried out before I can confirm his hypothesis.

Also got into a long debate with my closest friend (a debate which is still ongoing). It has set my ulcer off, has been going off since about ten last night. Pretty pathetic, I know. I am 29 and I have an ulcer. I'm a fucking walking stereotype sometimes, I swear. Medication has been taken, however it has likely been set off again by the four cups of coffee and the handful of sour wine gums I have ingested.

Ah, screw it. The office is abandoned, the sun is out, and I am seriously not pleased with my life. I think I'll bunk off work soon, go running, and then lay outside in the yard with my dog. Think I've started a trend here.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 10:07 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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