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I fall asleep on the couch. Dream bad dreams all night (wrong train and my ex boyfriend). My flatmate tells me to “go out or something”. I am two days behind schedule (An apartment building in five days, yeah right.) I want to fast forward to next week, to next year if it’s possible. Everyone else loves the course I most hate, which should tell you something. All this makes me stressed out, angry and unhappy. No matter what way I twist it. And really, it’s all my own fault.

Ten days and two big courses to finish. A course portfolio to write. A history test to read to. (and then Christmas)

Stress weaves knots in my chest. Ones that don’t shift no matter how deep I try to breathe. I decided to work less and ended up doing more, because it’s not so horrible anymore. Result: better work, good grades.

“I think you should be a children’s book illustrator,” Kaisa says. “You are crazy like that.” We deem she should have been the architect, not me. I start to relax in the chaos of my life, not see the slight disorganization as a flaw to fight anymore. I think about art school. And I think about bad paying summer jobs that have nothing to do with architecture. Ten days and half a year to go.

Saturday, eleven in the morning, is grey. You don’t remember what I talked about last night. Careers, happiness, sadness. Afternoon it rains. Cardamom coffee is not good on my hangover. The movie makes me cry and the day is gone. Again.

my first illustration job, for an article on future offices. Yay!

november: new music. thoughts occupied with apartment layouts. new conversations. cute boy on my class, whose name i don’t know. candy and caffeine. early mornings, late nights. time alone on computer, alone on busses, headphones in ears. I drift into this world where there are only things to do, followed with more things to do. ask me again in december.

The lecture today was about the psychology of living; how we make our homes the image of ourselves, to strengthen our identity. We try to make them filled with as many good things as possible, to make us happy, or just to survive.
Our home is chaotic. We have trouble with territories and space. Yet it is the best place I’ve lived in. Maybe we make this home work or it changes us so we fit.