I miss Ireland, Dublin and my friends there. I miss our household, housemates, SCA, Pandora, house dinners (P's lasagna *dreamy sigh*) and Sunday breakfasts. And that is good. It is good that I miss the fun, the good things and have put the banks, public transport and the office climate behind me.
Every time when things don't go very well here, I start yearning back. Basic human psychology at work here — we want the familiar, the secure and the safe. After spending two years in Dublin, I know how things work (or not, as is the case); I know where to find what I need, I know how to get where I want to go and I spoke the language fluently.
I'm still finding things out about Stockholm. For example buses in Stockholm are occasionally late, or early. Every time I get pissed about some little detail like that, I automatically miss Dublin. Then I remind myself that a bus being late four minutes in Stockholm is not a big deal, the bus never coming in Dublin was.
I hated the bus system in Dublin, hated it with a blinding passion. I still get upset when I think about all the time I spent waiting for buses that never came or were half an hour late. I'm not gonna tell any stories now, I don't want to be angry. Promise never to ask me about buses or banks or IDs in Ireland unless you want me to swear a blue streak, become raging mad and smoke rise from my ears.
Um. Where was I? Ah, yes. I've bought tickets to visit Dublin in February. I'm fetching my stuff that I had to leave behind and I want to visit friends. I miss them and the good things about Ireland.
That's how it should be.