2. Chapter 2.
Damn. I'm very impressed with myself right now. I just lived through almost 21 hours on the same plane. I didn't know that was possible. Oh my god why does it always take forever to get of a plane? I think. Ever since it all sorta went to hell I've been really irritable. But everyone just says it's normal for someone in my condition. I finally get of the plane and out of the gate. I see a sign that says: "Welcome to Sydney!" like it's a pleasure coming here. Okay for some people it may be. But for me. It's the place I least want to be right now.
Getting out of the airport took the longest time ever. Right now I'm sitting in the taxi driving me to my flat. I've never seen this flat before so I'm anxious to see what it looks like. After driving for ages I finally arrive at my flat. My first own flat. To be honest it was kinda exciting. But I'd rather be home where I belong. The flat doesn't have a bedroom. It has a small bed loft with just enough space for a king size bed. A tiny kitchen open to the livingroom and a bathroom.
It's been about an hour since I arrived at the flat and I'm currently just sitting on a sofa that was here when I came going through my twitter feed. The doorbell rings and I open the door. A large man says that my stuff are just outside and the removalists are taking them up for me. I thank him and sit back down on the sofa. I feel weird watching these men just doing this for me. I ask them if I could help and they just tell me sit back and relax. "A flight all the way from Denmark to Australia that gotta be long?" one of the men asks me with a strong Australian accent. I answer with simple "Yeah". "What time would it be in Denmark right now?" he asks "About 3pm" I answer him "Oh so it's not gonna be easy falling asleep I guess?" "No. I don't think it will" I say and lightly chuckle. It takes them about 10 minutes to bring all my stuff up to the flat. The man that came first asks me to sign on a paper and they leave. Now I'm really alone. Guess I gotta get used to that..