It has been snowing in Amsterdam. As the years go by, I’m having trouble understanding whether I’m experiencing the effects of global warming, or whether I’ve never paid attention to what was always in front of me until now. It is likely a combination of the two. Either way, it is sad to see Amsterdammers retreat into their homes after two weeks of shorts and drinks in the sun.

At work

Leeruniek’s Product team is hiring, and I’ve been the one taking care of the recruitment process for two engineering and one design role. So far, I’ve found a new front-end engineer as well as a designer within two months, so I suppose you could say I’ve been busy. If this process has been teaching me anything new, it’s that 1) I very much enjoy meeting people and learning about their (work) life stories, 2) there is such value in building strong relationships with recruiters who make you smile, and 3) it takes two weeks of introdutory chats before I begin to regret having to listen to my own voice give the same pitch over and over again.

The tourists are back in town. Lots of Germans with face masks. I suppose we’re all beginning to venture out into the world again, just a bit closer to home. Anja and I are considering taking the ferry to Norway. Apparently you can camp virtually anywhere in that country, as long as you “leave it cleaner than you found it” and make sure you’re gone after two days. At this point, we’re vastly underestimating how attached we are to luxury. I can still hear myself whining “Bonsoihoir”. This was the catch-all name we used anyone who would come to the door of our Parisian hotel room with a bucket of ice, “no, not for champagne, just for the drinks”. I also really don’t like ticks, and I simply can’t imagine that Norway somehow doesn’t have the national health crisis taunting its neighbor.

I never get much reading done unless I’m sleeping elsewhere. Most often, I associate sleeping elsewhere with having time off, and having time off means I’m away from a computer screen. This frees up time for reading.

Anja had booked a suite for my birthday at Okura, and six months after I turn 33, Covid measures are finally so mild that we actually get to do it. It’s on the sixteenth floor, overlooking the Amsterdam Centre and West Side. We eat like royalty, and fall asleep watching the sunset from our California King. I’m feeling like a million bucks.

Her Summer break started yesterday, and as always it is an event. I am so excited about getting everything right that I mostly present as a frantic killjoy. Jeopardy makes everything better.

I start today with my usual bike route past the bakeries. Niemeijer for pain au choc and canelés, followed by tiger buns and krentenbollen at Simon Meijssen. Niemeijer won best croissant of Amsterdam, but I think they’re too bready.

I’m terrible at keeping it a secret: my favorite time in the week is when A works from home. We spent the past month building a home office in a one-bedroom apartment, and I’m happy about the result. Monday is Uni day for her. I find it endearing that her Statistics course is throwing her for a loop a little bit.

“Work is so great!” I think to myself on Tuesday. My onboarding period is somewhat odd because of two separate parental leaves in my team. Now that my fellow designer is back again, I have to conclude that she is an utter blast. A attempts to use her iPad as a sidecar but doesn’t get the audio right. This makes it so that I can hear all of her pupils wrestle through 1984. When she discusses a particular rainy scene, a girl says “like, I don’t know, it’s, like, just typically English”, and we both smile.

Proudly nasty, I joined Anja, my mother-in-law Sauci, and millions of others around the world last Saturday to attend the Women’s March. Museum Square in Amsterdam was full of pussy hats, face paint, smiling faces, and righteous indignation.

I don’t often attend protests, not in the last place because I’m cautious about negative media outlets that often ridicule protesters, but I loved being a part of this day. I have no idea what’s in store with this American presidency, but I imagine it can’t be very positive. I feel fortunate to live in a place that lends itself well to such protests. It makes me feel less scared and less alone.