The Five 'W's of Right Now

Who       Just under a month ago, I packed my things and put my unemployed, homeless arse on a one-way flight from Heathrow to my white wooden childhood home in Stavanger, a small town on the Norwegian West coast. Home to mama Ramsberg for some love and access to a full fridge.

What and Why    As lovely as it sounds, I didn’t come home to play. I came to work so that I can pay back the money I owe. Money my mum lent me to put down a deposit for the new flat. Money my Master Card tricked me into believing I could live off during two months of semi-homelessness in between moving flats. Money the government lent me to get educated.

Where    I’ve worked days, evenings and nights at the local nursing home, where I’ve spent most my time over the last (hundred) holidays working to save up. The oldies and I have become good mates over the years.

When     Like I said, it’s been close to a month. For the first time in three years, I’m pleased to announce that home has been good. Chats with mum, banter with my brother, and the occasional Skype sesh with dad in Kuala Lumpur. But enough is enough, I’m gagging to get back to London, and now there are only three days to go. Three night shifts, a load of packing, a pedicure and two flights.

Town
My little village