Yesterday I counted how long it had been since I had last published a blog post here: four months. I was surprised, but only a little. This year has been flying past.
Through all of 2015 I was a newcomer to Sweden, and felt it. If it was a year that came with a lot of uncertainty, no small degree of fear and some loneliness, it was also a time when my life seemed to change with every corner I turned.
I’m used to the pace of change. I can’t think of a time between 2006 and 2015 when I wasn’t gearing up for an upheaval of one sort or another; it was generally impossible to picture my life more than one year into the future. I had 13 different addresses during that nine-year period.
And look at me now: a homeowner with a permanent job, a temporary cat, and a partner who’s a year and a half into a five-year PhD. Life is looking pretty stable and settled and I guess that’s when time starts racing by.
If the last four months have passed unbelievably quickly it’s because I have such an unchanging routine. That might sound boring but I’m trying to think of it as a badge of success. I don’t have to hustle my way through every day. I don’t have to try so hard all the time. I finally have a real life here.
Still there’s that part of me that is always looking out to the horizon for the next big change. I regularly find myself thinking about what Andreas and I might do when 2019 rolls around, where we might live. Casually discussing this over lunch at the office one day I mentioned that we will probably end up moving when that five-year PhD is over. “What?” my colleague asked. “Don’t you want to settle down?”
I don’t know. Honestly, I’ve never really thought about it.