i turned my exams in today. it feels good to have my brain back. i hope i never have to write twenty-four pages about politics again.
so it's getting down to the wire and i'm having to do logistical stuff to sort out my last bit of time here, like sending all the stuff that won't fit in my suitcase back to california by boat. i've had this box sitting in my room kind of full of all this stuff that takes up space but isn't really heavy (wool clothes, winter boots, my ukulele, a blanket) for about a week. i was filling it up slowly, considering what i'll need in my last weeks here and what i can do without. rain pants? hopefully i won't need them.
but today i was in get-things-done mode and after printing a hundred and thirty-two pages and delivering them to my department's office, i just wanted to be off with the damn cardboard box, too. so i reconsidered everything inside the box one last time and threw my slippers - which have been indispensable since november - in as well, then taped it up solidly. i addressed it to my parents' house and then kind of just stared at it for a moment. it was a strange sensation to look at the contents of what was just my multi-dimensional life all packed up neatly like that, hidden from view. looking at my "permanent" address - strangely all-caps - on the cardboard with my little name and soon-to-be-invalidated return address in the top left corner was abrubtly nauseating and i had to stop looking at the thing and just pick it up and carry it out the door before the queasiness overcame me. the wool blanket that i bought at dóra's mom's shop in iceland that kept me warm all winter and has adorned my velour couch for these last temperate weeks, my thermals that i never really did end up wearing because tights were just more sensible under jeans, and my chunky black boots that i've tromped all over europe in, through mud, forests, rain, cities, snow, slush, salt, ice, drunken nights, ambitious mornings, and everywhere in between are all in the hands of the danish postal service now.
it was a hassle to get the box to the post office. it wasn't that heavy - just 15 kilos - but it was awkward. i had assumed i'd be able to roll it down to the post office on my bike but it was far too big to balance on the back rack, so i hauled it all the way down, to the island's brygge posthus in my arms, exercising my paddling muscles for the first time in a long while. i have bruises from the thing banging against my thighs now, but the sun i got on my bare shoulders during the fifteen-turned-into-thirty-minute walk compensates for those.
i mean, i've only just discovered my favorite bookstore. it has extensive shelves of communist literature (all in danish, though) and books of poetry for only ten crowns. my suitcase is going to be a heavy one.