I keep thinking it is really weird when people have their farewell and they arrived here later than I did. I remember the first time it happened (more than ten years ago) and after a decade I still seem to receive every invitation to a farewell with a heartfelt “..but you just got here??”

On the other hand, I sometimes listen to stories from people that have been here so long that I enjoy their stories of the olden days and then realize we have been here equally long, and I can actually finish their story for them because I was there.

A third of my life I have lived here. I don’t mean to get all philosophical on you but that is a confronting fraction: 1/3.

So Saturday I went to a farewell – and it was actually someone I will really miss. And then Sunday I had coffee with someone that I regard as ‘a lifer’ and he arrived here when I did.

I might be a sucker for punishment since my bags are not packed yet but I am reading books and blogs about another continent already. Better prepare well 🙂




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