Easter Mass

The gatekeeper at Blåkulla.

I am at the old folks place. Having a pretty nice time. My cousin are here with her daughters. They are great girls. It is nice to meet them again.

And still... I feel miserable. Scared. Scruffy.

If there has come anything good out of this yet, it is that I notice things I like, things I need. Like earlier today the bus went by an exit to the old stage coach road and I realized how much I like that road. When you stand at the busstop and look down the road, it looks more like 1808 than 2008. I must take a walk there tomorrow.

There's an old pocket watch here. I made it tic again. It made me happy. It is not a particulary fancy watch. It is dentet and chipped. But it looks and feels robust. I like that.

I got no energy whatsoever. I'm really starting to feel the strain on my body. I literary feel it in my bones. I can hardly shave anymore, because my face just explodes into small sores and my skin hurts for days. Stress related I am told.

I wonder what I am going to fill this hole with next month? I have to write that essay anyhow. I'm looking forward to that, actually. It will be nice to get something to do in the days. Some kind of point.
I think I'll stay away totally from alcohol, too. Or at least try.
Maybe try and learn how to cook a bit.