Killer instincts

All cafes and cafeterias on campus are closed, and have been all summer. All vending machines are in the US, we don't do those here apparently. (At least not on campus, there is one at my gym for sports drinks and energy bars.... )

Anyways, point being that in order to get anything eatable you have to walk at least half a mile. Which means you want to plan you caloric intake and /or daily excursions to the world outside prior to plopping your butt down in the office chair.

This typically wouldn't be that big of a deal. But typically I'm not a million weeks pregnant and have a hard time with estimations and such. So some days I bring more food than I need. Other days I get so hungry in the afternoon the thought of walking anywhere past the office bathroom feels like climbing Everest (doable maybe, but not for me).

During these times (not my finest moments) I've been hangerly answering emails, stealing stale and questionable snacks from the break room (seriously hoping nobody will come back looking for those cause I have eaten them all. gone, no more. finito) and contemplating eating bugs. It's supposed to be a thing anyway, isn't it? All nutritious and chock full of protein?

Also thinking about what a spoiled modern human I am. If I'm hungry I should probably go kill something, or pick it, or grow it. But whatever.
My toddler thinks hens buy eggs at the store for their chickens.... we're modern. 

whatever dude

Dylan: I can't believe the ungodly amounts Swedish people have in student loan debt. In a country where higher education is free, how is it that most everyone you talk to have crazy high student loans and some of them didn't even finish a degree! Unbelievable. Un-be-liev-able!

Also Dylan: I can't believe the low interest on student loans here. I mean... If I'm going to take classes, and I could qualify... why wouldn't I take some of the loans...? I mean, why wouldn't I?

 

So so sweaty

I'm a big, hot mess of a human. So sweaty all the time, it's disgusting. I wear only what human decency and good manners require.
I'd rather go naked, armed with spray bottles of ice water. 
Last week in the office I overheard the sharp dresser tell someone over the phone how the office was "quite cool and very comfortable" while I was fanning myself with wads of recycled budgets.
Yesterday I complained about the hot apartment to Dylan and suddenly realized he was wearing a t-shirt and pants.....
Are you not hot? I asked
No, not really. He replied, cementing that it's not actually that hot.
It's just me.

That'll put hair on your chest

After a few consecutive mornings of me making a pot of coffee for me and my one office mate (the sharp dresser) that's been just a little wimpy.
Too weak.
Not quite enough to kick in.
I decided not to take any risks on this (TGI)Friday.
So right now I'm sipping on a cup that reminds me of that expression "it'll put hair on your chest"

The first time I ever heard it was on a road trip gas station break, Dylan and I were coming back from Seattle I think. It was early on, we've might only have been dating for a few months.
Anyways, it's late and I go in to get coffee to keep us awake for the rest of the drive. The lady working apologizes for not having any freshly brewed, I say that's ok and pour two cups of what's sitting out.
"A'ight honey, but that'll put hair on your chest" she mutters as she rings me up.

Then I thought about it for at least 20 miles before finally asking Dylan what the heck that meant.

It's all relative

The weather has been really nice these last few days. It actually feels like summer. This morning I didn't even have a light jacket on riding my bike to preschool+work. Neither did Lou. We've been swimming, bbq-ing, applying and re-applying sunscreen... you know, just doing summery stuff.

But while Dylan and I certainly enjoying these sunny days in the mid 70's, people around us and the local media are crying heat wave. The midwife asked me yesterday how I was tolerating the incredible heat.
I didn't laugh in her face, that would have been rude.
And in all fairness, I do get uncomfortable and sweaty, not gonna lie there.
But considering I've been driving vehicles without AC in 80-90 degree temps for the last few summers.... I'm doing alright.

And I wouldn't call this a heat wave. It might be a wave, but it's not that hot.

What vacation?

It's July and Sweden is on vacation. Everybody. Pretty much. Not me of course, the ridiculously long vacations I moved here for (sorta kidding) won't happen this year. Dylan is working, so am I, and Lou is going to preschool.

It's by choice though, mostly, so I'm not complaining too hard. And I am taking a week off at the end of the month.

The office is empty. Just me and the sharp dresser, who still dresses very sharply but has managed to relax his attitude enough to where we can actually have somewhat pleasant conversations over our lunchboxes. 

I miss CdA summers though. So much. More than I thought I would.
Oh the cake. I want to eat it and have it and wrap it and save it and chew on it.

Yes I know how this sounds...

.. but I'm going to say it anyway. (Here, not on facebook where people might actually see it. I'm very comfortable confronting people behind their back, you see.)

I'd be way more likely to try Keto, The Whole 30, Paleo, or any of those (fad) diets if any of the people relentlessly promoting them on my newsfeed actually looked in shape.

Sorry.