The company had a summer party this Tuesday. I hesitated for a short while, but in the end the decision was easy.

On the one hand: I could go to a crowded bar, with lots of people who are drinking, staring at TV screens (some football game) and occasionally shouting loudly. Possibly, if we can hear anything, we might talk about nothing in particular.

On the other hand: I could go home where I will be greeted with cheers of “emme, emme, emme, emme!” from the moment I put my key in the lock, and then I would get a big hug from Ingrid, and maybe one from Eric too. And then Ingrid and I would hold hands while we go downstairs and out to the laundry room next door. And then we would come back to a nice home cooked dinner with Eric.

I don’t spend much time thinking about home and family while I am at work. But the moment I step out through the door, I long to get home to them. The longing grows as I get closer, and by the time I step off the T-bana I am almost ready to run.