Servicekonteret
I went to the Servicekontoret today to register my residency. It has many public functions, one of which is to act like a Job Center. There's perhaps a couple of dodgy characters (I hear tell one of the clients there is a kleptomaniac) but it's nowhere near as oppressive as a British Job Center. They don't have burly, tattooed security guards on the door. I even heard laughter coming from the employees desks. Laughter. Can you imagine that in a British Job Center? Employees there usually look like they need a good shot of whisky and a Prozac just to get through the day. Sorry if anyone out there works for Job Center. It's just that for me they will always be purgatory. A lime green purgatory. I suppose that's what they were aiming for?
Language Frustration
I got a bit frustrated with my language learning today. I want it to go faster. What can't you just stick a bloody USB in your ear'ole and download it all, eh? It seems learning a new language is a mixture of patience and blind faith. How the hell can you actually learn another language? Bit-by-bit, always speaking, always practicing, always reading. And having faith that it will start to make more sense at some point.
Toilet Trouble
Bit of toilet trouble yesterday. I was reciting Swedish phrases to myself and reading Harry Potter on the bog. Everyone was already in bed. But apparently I was there for two whole hours. It didn't seem that long. My mother-in-law complained to my wife that I was making too much noise shuffling about (the walls are very thin). It was decided I would 'make my toilet' (well, we used to say that...) earlier or take less time getting ready.
I blame Harry Potter! Those books obviously cause willful constipation in those who are unfortunate enough to be addicted to tales of the tufted tike!
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