a great 2008

– which echoes in 2009 and further on


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On the inside of my closet door I have a list. Every time I fetch something in my closet, it looks at me. For now – it might change, I know – it smiles at me when I see it. It’s a list of things I want to do in 2013.

I didn’t really want to make a list, but I ended up doing it. As the new year came closer and closer, I found myself thinking about all the things I wanted to make an effort to try to get done. One of them was work really hard on building a wardrobe. I have wanted to do this before – and failed – but I still want to do it and as I began wondering what pieces I ought to buy, what colour etc., I figured the right place to remind myself of wanting to do this had to be the inside of my closet door. And then other things came along.

I am not fooling myself. I know that this list can make me seriously mad in March when I have to admit that I have gotten nowhere, but I made it anyway.

  1. New job
  2. Blog in Danish
  3. New winter coat
  4. Christmas saving
  5. Follow and finish running programme
  6. Clean bathroom weekly
  7. Photograph, 52 themes
  8. Read 12 books
  9. Put apartment up for sale
  10. Spend a night away from home with J
  11. Write 52 memories
  12. Make an effort
  13. Build a wardrobe
  14. Cook 52 new recipes (preferably from already owned cookbooks)
  15. Visit 4 museums, 4 exhibitions.

And that’s it. I might come up with more, but for now these are the words hanging on the inside of my closet door.


I don’t know if I owe anyone an apology or and explanation for signing off and then returning as if nothing had happened, but if I do, here we go:

I signed off because I needed to breathe. December was in no way an easy month and I felt trapped and sad and basically couldn’t see any light anywhere. Because most of it is down to my job, I couldn’t really write about it here, so I decided to quit.

The minute I quit I felt as if I was missing a piece. I thought of things I wanted to write. This space is a way of getting things out of my head, of debating with myself, of writing for my own pleasure not caring whether it’s read or not.

I allowed myself to return, promising myself I would keep up as long as I enjoyed it and felt I got something from it, so those last words weren’t the last ones. I missed this space too much.


Written by Drew

January 7, 2013 at 1:18 pm

Posted in 2013

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