Sista Månaden

I’m getting quite emotional writing this already. It seems like yesterday I was throwing things in my suitcase and hugging my dog goodbye, and yet here I am over three months later, writing about how in a month, I’ll be back in the US. Back in the land of Chipotle, Target, and Chick-fil-a milkshakes. Back to my dog and being within 3000 miles of my best friend and family. Back to watching sports from the press box. Back to waking up at 6 every day to go skating. Back to life.

The result of getting lost in Italy

It’s been such a good few months here and as excited as I am for everything listed above, I can honestly say that I don’t want to go. I may not have studied somewhere exotic like South Africa or Australia, or somewhere underdeveloped like Africa or India, or somewhere where I stick out like a sore thumb like China or South Korea, but I studied away from what I’m comfortable with. I went through intensive language courses, got lost in Norway, Germany, and Italy, was confused in the grocery store, survived solely on cheese and bread for an entire day, and went to a ball. A BALL. 

Thanksgiving with the Swedish Fam. I'm not drunk, I promise

For a while I didn’t think that this day would come, the day sometime after Thanksgiving that I’d be writing about my last month and the three months prior. And yet here I am. Sitting in bed at 1pm since I haven’t left it all day, under an IKEA blanket, listening to Swedish Top 40, and typing away. The past three months have been an insane series of events, a winding road through hills and valleys with a speed limit that doesn’t exist.  I never thought I’d celebrate American thanksgiving with people from across the world, that I’d stay out until 2:30am, that I’d drink Minttu (don’t judge me mom). I’ve done all of those and I don’t regret any of it. Minus the morning after my first Minttu.

I’ve loved living in Sweden and even though I only have 30 days left in this beautiful, cold, gray country I’m busy. Spending my days travelling to places I haven’t been yet, spending Christmas drinking fresh cider with family, and getting as much coffee as I can. 

I can accidentally on purpose lose my passport so I have to stay longer, but it’s doubtful that it would work. I can’t prevent my departure, only accept the inevitable. 

Em