A Brief Intermission in My “Becoming a Writer” Journey

So… remember how I boldly announced I was starting my “becoming a writer” journey? You know, setting off with all the dramatic flair of someone sharpening a quill pen by candlelight and whispering, “This is it, destiny awaits.”

Well. About that.

I promptly vanished.

Not in the cool, mysterious, Hemingway-vanishes-to-the-wilderness way. More like the “life decided to throw me in a blender, hit the purée button, and then pour me out somewhere completely different” kind of way.

Here’s the highlight reel of what happened during my totally intentional creative hiatus:

I moved house. Which sounds romantic and adult until you realize it mostly involves trying to figure out how many IKEA Allen keys a human can own before they legally become a Swedish citizen. (Spoiler: the answer is infinite.) I drove 20 hours across Sweden. From one end of the country to the other. Twenty hours. That’s basically the Swedish version of The Odyssey, except instead of sea monsters, I battled roadside gas station coffee and an existential crisis somewhere near Sundsvall. I got a new job in guest relations—which is very exciting, but also means I had to swap my old spa uniform (which basically let me glide around like a zen cucumber) for outfits that say, I can solve your booking problem with a smile while secretly wondering if my blazer counts as battle armor.

So yes, technically, I stepped away from my writing. But! In my defense, I was out there collecting plot material. Because isn’t moving, road-tripping, and starting a new job just the real-life equivalent of “character development”?

Anyway—I’m back. Slightly more frazzled, possibly more caffeinated, and definitely with enough IKEA anecdotes to write an entire Nordic saga.

The moral of the story? My writing journey didn’t stall—it just took a scenic detour.

Stay tuned, because the next chapter is finally being written (hopefully with fewer Allen keys involved).