Stress

Me running up a stairway, sweaty as hell. Old man with a cat in a leash: 'Do you have to stress the way you do? (Måste du stressa så?)' Me a bit confused: 'ööh'. Old man with a cat in a leash: 'It is not good for you'. Me, walking slowly up a stairway behind an old man with a cat in a leash, sweaty as hell: 'But it is my exersize, and exersize is good for me!'. Then I asked if the old man was the recipient of the magasine that was about to deliver to the highest floor, and he was, so I did not have to run the remaining stairs.

Gött är livet

Aaaahhh! Efter en visserligen inte speciellt lång, men ändå väldigt svettig dag på kontoret så satt ett bad på vägen hem inte fel. Inte på något sätt.

A lost generation??

Was sitting on a bench on the central street the other day. I was trying to figure out if there was a computer store near by. The one I knew about was closed until two, and that was two hours into the future (yea, this was only to let you know that I work silly short days right now) and I did not want to wait that long. So, I was sitting there looking kind of strange I suppose when two teenage girls sit down on a bench facing mine. 20 cm from one of the girls is a trash bin. They have bought a burger and a drink at the big m. The burger looks really distasteful, just like a big m burger is supposed to look I suppose. The girl with the drink takes up a straw and peels of the paper wrapper and, like it is the totally natural thing to do drops the paper on the street. She then takes up a second straw and peels of the paper wrapper which she of course also drops on the street. Now, ok, this is my pet peeve, and maybe I just need to relax, but this really gets to me. Something is fucked up if people don't even consider to throw the trash in the bin that is twenty fucking cm away. I stayed there for a bit of time, contemplating if I should say anything, and when I decided not to I tried to get them to understand that I thought they were idiots by esp. They must have thought that I was some mental patient or something, but I am really just a guy that thinks trash belongs in the trash bin and not on the fucking street. Anyhow, I ended up going home, having the thought 'this town needs a centrally placed computer store that is opened on normal business hours' in my head.

Fuck

Today was the third time that I hit my head on my round. This time it was while I was running down some stairs and there was a low beam in the ceiling over the last step. So, I hit my head, fell over, knocked my glasses of so that they went flying. I finally ended up laying on my back for a couple of minutes watching the sweat run down my up-stretched arms. If you wonder if Mattias screams if there is no one there to listen to the scream, then the answer is yes.

So, yea

Life is sometimes sweet, like when there is so few letters to deliver that you are home before even half your workday is over. But when the train you have planed to take, the one that was supposed to deliver us to Mälaren in just over ten minutes, is delayed more than an hour, and it is hot as hell, and you really want to go swimming (with bowlegged women (obscure MASH quote, if you know the rest of it there might be a prize in it for you)) and you have your mind set on the big lake, that sucks. We ended up going to the beach at the camping a couple of miles away and spent the entire afternoon in the company of several pitbulls and their owners. Then we came home and was planing on watching a movie. Only to discover that the part of the harddrive that houses my operating system has fried. Now I wounder if i should buy a new disk and start over, and with what operating system in that case. But I kind of know that I am stuck with w. since I use a photomanaging program that does not work with linux, and that is a real bummer. But, the only things i do with the computer is to watch movies and work with my photos, so..

Fate

If a thing like fate existed then I think that there would be some fate involved when a letter /magazine gets stuck in a mailbox (and then has to be fiddled with until it slips in). The only reason I can imagine is that it gets stuck cause it does not belong there, that I tried to deliver it to the wrong address. But so far this has never been the case. Hence I rule out the existence of fate. QED.

Driving

Driving around in (not) my auto mobile delivering mail. That's a new experience for me. It would not have been too bad if I knew where to go, but now I had to use the gps almost all the time just to know which way turn, and on top of that have one eye on the road, one eye on the letters, one eye searching for the next mailbox, two hands on the steering wheel, one hand flipping through the letters, one hand putting the letters down into the mailbox that the eye searched out, and the brain handeling all the information that all the eyes and hands create. Concentration is of the essence.

Fy faan va mycket post

Maybe

Ok, maybe there is a point of following at least a basic recipe when baking. I kind of went crazy and used a bit more fluid than I usually do, and ended up, after using seven different bags of flour (four of which I used up) with a dough that weighed 5.3 kg. Luckily the result was quite good, it would have been a downer to do all that work and end up with six un-tasty loaves of bread.

Not OK

I have said it before, but I feel that I have to say it again. To bake cinnamon buns at or around the time that the mail-man comes around so that the entire stairway smells is NOT OK. To do it and then offer a couple of the said buns, together with a cup of steaming black coffee, to the mail-man, well, that's an entirely different story.

Another thing that is quite all right is to have a cherry tree that the mail-man walks by.

Curious

I am curious how things are going for people back at the old steam factory, but I don't have the courage to ask. I don't even have the courage to post this. What could happen? I could possibly get some mail responses, and in them questions. I suppose that it is the questions that scare me. Which is strange, cause I don't have any problems with answering them, I mean, I am rather straight forward on this blog, I am not ashamed of anything I have done. But still...

What if I put some answers here, then I might not get any questions which scare me...
-Thank you, I am fine.
-No, I'm not ready to finish the lic yet.
-I don't know if I ever will be.
-I just ran away, I know. It was self preservation.

Hmm, yea, I don't know, do I dare push publish?

Aaah

Finally a nice and slow day in a week that otherwise has been full of long, stressful days. And on top of that, I made it home just before the rain came to town. Now I will spend the afternoon watching tv shows, starting with the latest episode of weeds. Speaking of tv shows, I caught the first ep. of the new series Generation Kill last night. It is a really well written mini series that is based on what a Rolling stones reporter experienced in the beginning of the Irak invasion. Alexander Skarsgård has a lead role and manages to portray an American youth quite well. The only thing that bothered me in this first episode was the trailer trash cliché guy. (Damn, its raining cats and dogs now, I sure was lucky to get home before this.) (By the way, do anybody know the rules on how to punctuate properly when using parenthesis like I do now? I always get confused...) Anyhow, I just thought it was unnecessary to make it so fucking obvious that he was a red neck racist son of a bitch. Other than that, I really recommend the show. (An extra plus for the ladies: There is plenty of nude/semi-nude hot well-trained sweaty young hunks to rest your eyes at.)

Sign

On a door on one of my post routes there is a sign:
Here lives:
Johan,Maria and
Annna Pettersson, as well as
Piggelin Rocky
i.e. Piggelin has died and has been replaced by Rocky. I think it's so strange. Why not make a new sign? Who needs an everyday reminder of an expired animal?

Speaking of signs, I did a little recon today, updating the 'No commercials please' data. Some of the signs are just ordinary signs. Then there are the once that for some reason has put up an entire A4 that yells out the message. And then there is the 'No bills please' sign. I can't really make up my mind if I think it is funny or not.

Where does all the dirty dishes come from?
Why do they end up in our kitchen?
What is their purpose in this world?

Hate

There are several reasons why people dislike us (i.e. the company I work for). One is the big one -> Now they have to go and get the mail TWO times a day (on every third day). In connection to that one is that lots of people (living in houses) has built some contraption that indicates to them that the mail has come. Everything from a stone/golfball on the box-lid, that falls down when the box is opened, to electronic switches that reacts when the lid is opened. Now when the mail comes twize (on every third day) the systems fail. This, I gather, is a big source of irritation.

Change

Something has changed. It happened gradually over the last couple of months. Now it happens every time I take a shower. I don't know why it is the way it is, but now I always have to turn the water on again after I am finished to rinse off the lather that is left in my left armpit. Annoying.

Oh, just to clarify: The 'poem' yesterday is the lyrics to the 'MASH' song. It was a long time since life was that dark. So there is no reason to worry.

Abstinence

I have abstinence. MASH abstinence. Have been thinking about it for some time. Bits and pieces of the show pops up in my head at strange times. I am a fan. I have been a fan for a long time. Back when I was in 9'th grade, or was it my first year in 'gymnasiet (blir alltid kollrig när jag försöker översätta det till engelska, mest för att det inte går att översätta då skolsytemen är helt olika)', (or was it even earlier? I don't remember), I had a couple of tapes that I watched over and over. It was a way of killing time. Come home after school, pop in a MASH tape, slip down into the fake leather sofa and soon four hours had gone by. I had the tapes memorized. My dad did more that once comment on this, 'are you watching that again, have you not seen it a million times already???'. I don't think he saw it as the best way to spend my youth. But I liked it, and I still like it. I think I have learnt stuff from the show. I think I am a different person cause of it. The way I express myself, my sense of humour and a big part of my medical knowledge comes from that show. (I am almost half convinced that I would be able to perform an emergency tracheotomy). I have the entire series on dvd's and I have watched all of it countless of times. But right now it has been almost a year since I last caught an episode. A year I have stayed clean. But now I feel the pull. I feel the need to not just watch one episode, but to watch episodes back to back until I pass out from sheer exhaustion. Once an addict always an addict.

Or maybe all I need is a slice of the bread that just came out of the oven. With some butter and orange marmalade.

Through Early morning fog I see
Visions of the things to be
The pains that are withheld for me
I realize and I can see
That Suicide is Painless
It brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it if I please

Rain

Delivering mail in the rain is not as fun as it sounds.

Malmköping -> Hälleforsnäs

Parts of the hike was very beautiful, the orchids were plentiful, the raspberries was so good, the cranes were loud, the guest books were filled with witty comments (I hate hate hate hate snails!), the grass was high and full of tics, the cloudberries were not yet ripe, the frogs extremely small, the Nymphaea (näckrosor) a sight for sore eyes, the blueberries blue and the bumblebees appeared a bit drunk.

Sorry

To those concerned:
I am sorry that I yelled in your stairway today, but a dog tried to eat me through a mailbox when I pushed in a couple of letters and it kind of scared me. I screamed almost as high as when I stumbled upon a Viper that was sunning on the trail when we were hiking two weekends ago, i.e. rather high.