The truth is that the coming week will probably be one of the toughest weeks of my life for the past ten years or so. I will have to work my regular job while taking care of my parents’ house with four different species of animals apart from the normal household stuff.
I attended the Medieval Week on Gotland (the largest medieval festival in Sweden) for the first time in 2005 and have attended every year since. It’s been a tradition, some years more to my liking than others but mostly that one time of year when I could pretend to be someone a little different from myself and meet new and interesting people that knew nothing about how boring I really am. It never turned out much like that, though I have made friends there that I generally don’t meet at all during the other 51 weeks of the year and it’s always that much greater seeing them after all that time.
And lets face it, I get to play princess in all the lovely dresses I make for eight whole days in the year and be out all night with my friends.
Last year I promised myself it would be the last year I’d attend out of tradition. I made a promise I wouldn’t go back until I ached to go there and ached to make clothes I’d be proud of, which is of course the reason I’m not there right now as the Medieval Week’s opening celebrations are about to commence in the lovely Visby of Gotland.
My parents and my older sister are at The Medieval Week as we speak.
I don’t know what pisses me off more; that I recommended it to them or that I’m stuck guarding the house. I have a variety of issues with being on my own and would normally just sit on my wide ass when I’ve dealt with my chores but whenever I’m alone in the house I can’t seem to sit still for more than a minute at a time. I can’t even take the time to sit down to eat. I see all the worst scenarios flash before my eyes and imagine the oncoming catastrophe.
It usually goes well.
Also, I want to cut my hair.