Home sweet home

Yesterday one of the final pieces of my apartment puzzle fell into place: I was accepted by the housing association of the apartment where I'm living and which I'm buying directly from the owner. Housing in Stockholm is complicated to say the least and to have a stable home one must buy. Or be extremely well-connected to get one of the few exclusive rental places that are available. Getting accepted was a bit tricky because they decided initially to reject me on the grounds that they couldn't see I had had an income when looking at my tax papers from 2011. Which is of course true because I didn't live in Sweden in 2011. So after not contacting me for extra information or even notifying me but instead sending a physical letter to the owner who was on holiday I finally got them on the phone, explained and within 20 minutes of having sent them my employment contract, I was accepted as a member. I still wonder what the board members were thinking if they were thinking anything at any point before seeing my employment contract. How would I have gotten a mortgage without any income? But it finally seems that I will be able to sign a contract for my own apartment within the next couple of days.

This good news coincided with me being in Copenhagen to work with a colleague on research and give a talk on a my work. It was nice to be among friends and nice to see old colleagues again. But it wasn't before the train home that I started reflecting; my days had been packed and planned from the start to the end. I had managed one impromptu lunch with a newly acquainted colleague, one unscheduled coffee with a amazingly sweet new friend but every other minute had been scheduled from before I arrived. As much as I enjoy even planned socializing I really miss the kind of spontaneity that characterized my social life before, what you can have in the city you live in. For ten years my social life in Copenhagen has been pre-scheduled from I arrive because otherwise I won't get to see the people I want to, and often I still don't get to see the people I want to. Getting on the train, I sat down for the first time in four days and relaxed. Wondering what I was going to do on the five hour train journey back. Read a magazine. Write on my funding proposal. Eat chocolate. Sit and stare out the window listening to Anya Marina. With five hours on my hands I managed all of them. I reached Stockholm, and (almost) my home sweet home just past midnight.