a man

Oh I don't remember feeling this good about feeling romantic feelings in years. It's fun. Tall and Handsome really seems like a good guy. Good stuff. 

Amalie is coming here in a few days and I'm looking forward to that so much. Friday is the last day that SHC is taking calls and we're all going out that night. I bought a new dress.

I had lot's of stuff in mind that I was going to write but now I'm really tired so I wont. But I'll tell you one thing before falling asleep: I am now reachable at my Swedish number as well as my Irish one. Aint that something.

Listening to: Zoro, the Spotify find of the day. 

Montage

Training montage: a group of young, confused foreigners, scattered in a room filled with combuters. As the days pass they learn about techsupport. About telephones. Cordlesss telephones. They become good friends.

Okay, its a boring montage, but training is finally finished. Tomorrow we start working for real. I think. (Or we might be sitting by another agent, listening in to calls.)

The talk of the town (okay, the company) is the big christmas party saturday. I'm looking forward to it. So is eveyone else.

Today we move - I hope. The people, the company or whatever they are, are driving us mad. They have given number ten to someone else. The builders did it obviously for some reason. So we could have number nine or number eleven, wich one did we prefer? And could we please send in more info? (Phone numbers, pps numbers and such.) Well, number eleven then. And we will send it later this afternoon. Ok?
No. Number eleven is not available. Will number nine be okay? And can we come into the office by four?
No, its not, but we don't have much choise, do we? And no, we cant, we work untill five.
So now I'm waiting for her reply. And I'm irritated. But we really have to move today, so what can I do?

Good news anyhow; I don't have to unlock my phone for Irish sim cards. It works anyways. Joy! So today I'm getting an Irish number.

Thanks Dad for your support. (& Mom for informing me that I actually have been to San Fransisco.)

being a settler

Sooo. (As the Irish say all the time. Or Okey sooo.) Today is my third day at work. We are a great team of new people, there's seven or eight of us, most french but not all. Today we are learning about cordless phones. I find it more interesting than I expected. I realized yesterday that my job will be making people happy. That's a good thing. Helping them with technical difficulties yes, but by doing so and doing it in an as proffessional way as possible also making them happy. Brightening up their day a little bit.


Anyone feel like visiting? Than bring me Kalles Kaviar, a cheesecutter (osthyvel) and pages for my filofax in Swedish. Thank you.


I dream weird stuff. Last night I dreamt I was a man and my name was Ikaros. (I wasn't a Ikaros och the Ikaros, it was just my name.) I wore a white mask. Something happened that forced me to learn to fly. It was dark and it hurt to fly, I had no wings, just my own will. It was hectic, the birchtrees around and then below me like shimmering shadows moving quickly in the dusky light. Then I woke up.


Yesterday I looked at a room. It was extremely small and very expensive. Today me and three others (Nicolai from Denmark, Gael and Axelle from France) are looking at a house.


I'm also going to get a bankaccount.


Food here is really expensive! There are no cooking facilities at the b&b so it's fastfood (expensive and disgusting) or sandwitches.