It was a Thursday. My alarm went off at 5 am that morning. During the day I had been discussing therapeutic cloning, spent three hours on the bus and had bread with peanut butter for dinner. I lived with my parents back then. Late at night I sat at this exact spot, doing the exact same thing; I wrote the first entry to my newly started blog.
But there are differences. Back then I lived in this house, now I am merely a visitor. My home is a two-hour flight away. Back then I wrote my entry in Norwegian, now I feel uncomfortable using that language for anything else than light conversations. That Thursday, three years ago, I did a presentation about The Wall Street Crash of 1929, and was physically shaking from all the nerves. Now I’m comfortable doing a speech in front of 300 unknown faces. Back then my job was washing toilets every Saturday morning, now I just got offers for summer internships in Turkey or Algeria. Back then I had no idea what lay ahead of me, and I still cannot believe how much can happen in only three years.
But looking at the view from the kitchen-window of my parents house, listening to the complete quietness; the world seems exactly the same as it was when I sat here three years ago.