Äntligen helg, eller?

Det är lördag i Coronastockholm och inget vet hur det ska bli. DN:s två stora artiklar idag gav inga nya svar huruvida barn smittar eller i vilken fas man smittar mest. Och att sjuttiplussarna gör som de vill är charmigt i teorin (jag tycker verkligen det), men faktum är ju att allas vårt beteende har effekt på vården för någon annan. I Bladet läste jag före detta Direktpress-kollegan Anna Sjögren om varför det är en dålig idé att bli smittad med flit (Anledningen är densamma som varför sjuttiplussarna inte ska frifräsa, det ökar risken att ytterligare intensivvårdsplatser behöver tas i bruk). Barnen hostar och jag har ont i huvudet. Brorsan är i karantän i lägenheten på Mallis och det lär dröja innan det blir vår på riktigt, vår som i att ha kul. Men det är lördag. Alltid något, typ.

Working from home accompanied by the kids – not a great combo

Today started as normal as it gets these corona days, the twins went to school and I sat down with my improvised home office. A while later both of them were home again. Their teacher sent them home after they had been caught coughing a couple of times. I have no reasen to question her judgement. But working home is a complete different thing when the children also are at home. I’m lucky they are ten years old. I have some collegues that are forced to work from home when they also have to take care of two and three year olds. I am not jealous.

I guess we all have to try a little bit extra to get all things going for the next couple of weeks. Corona is not gonna be here forever. And I am allowed to get ouside. Stockholm i still open. At least parts of it.

How has you corona thursday been?

Lördag. Dagen man helst ägnar roliga saker men som ofta landar i att utföra inte lika roligt fix. Själv styr jag mot Sätra med ett lass trasiga vitvaror. Tillfredsställande på andra sätt.

Äter sushimiddag med min dotter efter hennes fotbollsträning. Det är sensommar. Vi småpratar. Utanför hörs stadens brus genom den öppna dörren. En stund att minnas.

Den här Mogul lär vara ganska nöjd med att hens sedan länge borttagna målning är kvar i Pokemon Go, med kredd och allt.

Back in the city – with mixed feelings

I am back in Stockholm after five good weeks living #torplife on the countryside. Today was my first day at work and everything was pretty much the same as it was before vacation. I guess that’s fine. To get as much out if the day as possible I went up early, dressed up in shorts and running shoes and took a run to work. And when my office hours were over I ran home again. In the locker room I met a reporter at DN I recognized but I couldn’t remember his name. We have never met before but I am sure I have seen his photograph in the paper many times.

Reconsider everything

The start of August is reconsideration time. Am I in the right place? Am I working in the right place. Am I really living the life I want to? These questions are coming back to me around this time every year. After a couple of vacation weeks in the countryside I always feel energized, full of creativity and happy. I spend all days with my wife and kids and we are doing fun stuff together and there is also time for doing fun stuff alone. I never feel bored or stressed out. This is the benefits of being off work but when I daydream about leaving our apartement in Stockholm for good and buy a house out here, I tend to ”forget” about the non-working part of it all. If we did move nothing would be like it is right now. Going to and from work would take much longer for example. In Stockholm I ride my bike for 15 minutes, out here I would probably have to drive for at least 30 minutes. And the kids couldn’t walk home for themselves after school. There would be no close neighbours, no street lights and no open late-shops in the area. And it’s not easy to find a job as a journalist out here. I would have to find something else probably.

Still, I keep daydreaming. I’ll do it for another week. Then I’m back in Stockholm at my job, the kids are back in school and everything will feel just fine again. I guess that also is a part of what we in Sweden call ekorrhjulet, the treadmill of life.