Mama, I'm coming home...

Mama, I'm coming home. Not perhaps home per se, seeing as how you live in Skåne and I am actually moving to Nyköping. And well, not "I am coming come" as it is, in fact, five of us who are moving, and for them it's neither "I" nor "coming home" at all. Except for the fact that we are all moving to our new house, and it is our new home. Aw, shucks, this is all so confusing...

Nuff said. 

Nyköping is a youthful, modern town-of-the-world where shops close early in the weekends and you almost always bump into someone you know on the streets or at the store. Even though I happen to like the town a lot, we will still have it at a comfortable distance. A little house in a separated community (and no grocery store anywhere?!?) where life can be enjoyed both with the comforts of civilization and the joys of rural life.

Huggly squeezy with sugar on top

The life here in Norrköping is getting somewhat tiresome. Of course, the friends I have here are nothing short of great, and the city does have a better developed social life. I get pretty tired of people, though. The school kids in the yard below, screaming at the top of their lungs for eight hours a day. Very nice when you have 29 degrees in the apartment and try to sleep after having worked nights. Or the scooter crowd of smoking 14-year olds who think they gangsta, cause they talk trash and smoke mom's stolen cigarettes. Not to even mention the neighbors. Don't really know what people here are thinking. It is something of a social experiment really. Take garbage, for instance. In a small community like a residential unit, how can people figure it is okay to put their garbage in the common hallways? To leave it there for a few days? First of all, there's a law saying we can't have anything in the hallways, due to the fire and evacuation hazard, and still people put all kinds of crap there. Garden furniture, umbrellas, bicycles, trolleys, a motorcycle and of course trash.

What can I say? Happy Swedish National Holidays and stuff...
And then the parent couple of some of the more rowdy neighbors leave for the night, so the kid decides to have a party. And 15 people crowd in the balcony, screaming like banshees throughout the night for no apparent reason. Four different neighbors kindly ask them to shut up, and they respond politely, saying they will, and then just ignore it. Having asked them (Vendela is clearly better at that than I am) we took refuge in the last available discourse for a disgruntled Swede, namely the angry note. Yes siree, there was an angry note in the lobby, signed by some of the others as well. I hope those blasted rebels learned their lesson! One month left, and counting...


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