Sunday evening. I can hear the two guests that arrived today talking upstairs. Two middle aged women going to a conference about project management and staying here for two nights. During the afternoon I had tea with one of them, who's originally from England, and we talked about this and that for an hour or so. Project management, learning Swedish, living in France, hitch hiking and being topless at the beach.
In the other bedroom is my French guest who's here for a month. Today we went on a trip to Sigtuna where we had the traditional Swedish pastry semla with coffee. Then I decided we should speak French the rest of the day. I managed to tell him the story of when I was kicked by an elephant in Laos. With tons of grammatical errors. And now we just came home after meeting Robin from Buddler and his sister for a quick beer.
Now I'm downstairs cuddled up in my sofa writing this. Soon I'll close the doors to the dining room and put out the mattress on the floor and go to sleep. Tomorrow morning the construction workers who are renovating the facade where I live will start working early - there are scaffolding all around the building now so sometimes men walk past the windows. And the two women will get prepared for their conference. And the French guy will make his café au lait like every morning.
I don't need an alarm bell any more. And I just love having all these people around! It's almost as if one guest isn't enough anymore. I think this whole thing is addictive.