They open their roti takeout, unfold their pancake, and start eating. Strike a pose, thereās nothing to it. I ask them if itās okay that I watch them eat before I start, so I can see how in the world Iām supposed to eat sauce without cutlery.
First of all: not a great week. I continue to struggle to notice when I feel stresed or overwhelmed, and it never fails to result in my body giving me a clear sign. On Monday evening, in the midst of a busy work month, my body said āSIT. DOWN.ā I needed undtil well into the weekend to feel myself again.
One of the signs my body knows to give it a very mild version of conversion disorder: I lose the ability to listen to a conversation while I walk without feeling very dizzy. Isnāt the body a beautiful, very annoying, but magnificent thing?
I start back up at work on Thursday, working the mornings until the weekend. Itās good to acknowledge things arenāt great., It brings clarity and rest.
On Friday evening
I attend the first edition of a new local film club I joined. It confirms what I already know: I love the horror genre, and I love discussing cinema with people who didnāt finish film school Anja Iām looking at you.
Ever since we
visited Hija de Sanchez in Copenhagen Anja and I have gotten really into Mexican food. By now, Iām so well-versed in the art of a simple-but-sublime taco, that I whip up a delicious meal. Who knew tacos required so little filling?
On Saturday, I visit Micropia, a zoo-adjacent museum about microbes. I expect to be queasy throughout the entire visit, terrified by the unfortunate-looking mini animals that live in and on every part of my body. Instead, Iām amazed by the beauty of nature. During the mini class I ask a question about algae: if their bodies move towards light and theyāre under a microscope for a while, where light comes from all sides, what happens to their health? The laboratory assistant tells me the museum swaps petri dishes regularly so that the algea donāt die. What happens before death, though, I wonder.
On Sunday, Chenelva comes over for afternoon drinks. Sheās one of those rare people: an instant connection and plenty of common ground to grow out friendship on. We marvel at how little we know about queer BIPOC Amsterdam.
Weāve completed the first season of the Dutch reality show āB&B vol liefdeā, in which B&B owners invite four dates into their home. Hate-watching reality television with Anja is one of my favorite pastimes.
The first week back at work is fairly quiet, I even found myself on the verge of boredom at one point. Organically, this makes me feel bad, but I remind myself that weeks before and after holidays tend to have this effect on my life. I tell myself Iām just landing.
No one can convince me the municipality of Amsterdam isnāt using major construction projects to show tourists how crap the city can be. On Sunday, I go for a long bike ride to Amsterdamse Bos and back, and crossing the Berlagebrug Iām struck by how quiet the street is without cars racing by. I like it.
Anjaās still off for the summer, and Iām watching her slowly recover from being my personal chauffeur for two weeks
The Summer makes me not want to cook. Itās no help that Iām using
Annelieās apartment to work while sheās travelling, and that I use the occasion to order poke bowls for lunch. Iām surprised by the quality of
Poke Perfectās teriyaki chicken bowl, extra edamame.
Brushing my teeth on Friday morning, I think about the weekend ahead, secretly complaining that my social engagements will keep me from getting the rest I need. Then I remember Easter Monday. The true marker of my mid-thirties is the excitement I feel at the prospect of a bed, and nothing but it.
I hold a baby this week, one of my favorite ones. His face has two states that exist simultaneously: the one of utter shock and surprise only newborns can have, and the one that reminds you that babies know everything about the world and forget it as soon as they start to speak. He laughs when I bop his nose, although I quickly learn that the force with which I bop Anjaās adult nose shanāt be applied here.
It has been snowing in Amsterdam. As the years go by, Iām having trouble understanding whether Iām experiencing the effects of global warming, or whether Iāve 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
Leeruniekās Product team is hiring, and Iāve been the one taking care of the recruitment process for two engineering and one design role. So far, Iāve found a new front-end engineer as well as a designer within two months, so I suppose you could say Iāve been busy. If this process has been teaching me anything new, itās 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 weāre 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 āleave it cleaner than you found itā and make sure youāre gone after two days. At this point, weāre vastly underestimating how attached we are to luxury. I can still hear myself whining āBonsoihoirā. 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, āno, not for champagne, just for the drinksā. I also really donāt like ticks, and I simply canāt imagine that Norway somehow doesnāt have the national health crisis taunting its neighbor.
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.
