Schweiz, schweiz

Det verkar som det är dags att lära mig franska.

In just over a week, I will again find myself, somewhat unexpectedly, in a strange country that begins (in English) with the letters “Sw.” Not being in Sweden nor on the African continent (Swaziland?), Switzerland should be your first guess.

Finding myself at the right place at the right time has by and large been one of the greatest factors in all the success I’ve ever been lucky enough to come by. A few months ago, I walked into my professor’s office with a request for a reccomendation letter. I walked out dumbfounded and with a summer job offer.

Since then I’ve been trying to learn all I can about plasma physics, going to group meetings about things I know (as of yet) very little about, and trying my dangdest not to fall asleep during online meetings scheduled on ‘Geneva time’ (meaning: 2 to 4 AM Pacific Standard time).

I thought of not telling you of all this, my beloved invisible daily saga readers. I considered all at once and out of nowhere posting a photo of Lake Geneva on this blog with all the dramatism I could muster. However, thinking you’re important enough to have a blog makes it a bit harder to keep things like this to yourself. So here we are.

At the best, this summer will be one of the most challenging a rewarding experiences of My Life thus Far. At the worst, it’ll be three months of torture. At any rate, one thing is for certain: this summer will mark my closest physical proximity to the tour de France during the course of the actual event. Hero worship and visions of Alpine mountain biking come to mind, but in reality I’ll probably be spending most of my time underground.

Sleeping every sunfilled night in the Swedish forest last summer was one thing. Staying up every night manning the cyrostats in a very exciting hole in Switzerland this summer will be quite another.

Bring it, Switzerland. Bring it.

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