They open their roti takeout, unfold their pancake, and start eating. Strike a pose, there’s nothing to it. I ask them if it’s okay that I watch them eat before I start, so I can see how in the world I’m supposed to eat sauce without cutlery. (Continue)

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 “SIT. DOWN.” 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. (Continue)

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 I’m just landing. No one can convince me the municipality of Amsterdam isn’t using major construction projects to show tourists how crap the city can be. (Continue)

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. (Continue)

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. (Continue)

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. (Continue)

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. (Continue)