I live in a garbage house

Det finns 6 skoldagar till jag ska åker till Stor Britanien för resan.

Loosely (very loosely) translated, that should say something about six more school days until I'll be in the U.K. My plan so far is to fly into London, and eventually end up in Edinburgh. I'm pretty excited, and it does feel surreal, because I've always wanted to see London and much else of the U.K, but I always put it off, maybe because I feel like I want to wait for that 'perfect moment.'

It's the same with Paris. I'm dying to go, but the timing is never perfect. It's always too short, too out of the way, or too something else. Maybe I'm afraid I've built it up too much, kind of like how I feel about the U.K. Essentially, taking English Lit at Ottawa U, almost everything we focused on has roots in the U.K. I want to see it all, everything I've read about. Clearly, in ten days, I'll have to settle for the Cliffs Notes version.

Nothing is less and more fun at the same time than marking essays from students who have other mother tongues other than English. The awkward phrases that come up keep it interesting.

In apartment news, I officially released my apartment, which means people are starting to come see it. Well, they WERE going to start today, apparently. I got a phone call from a woman who only spoke Swedish, and I had to explain that , no, she could not come today. I don't know how to say 'shit pit' or 'there is garbage in every imaginable corner' in Swedish, so I settled for, 'Come tomorrow, I must clean this night. Yes, tomorrow please.' Well, it probably sounded much worse.
Swedish lessons: thank you for teaching me the word clean, but not garbage.

Goodnight my three blog friends, good night.