Swedish Wanderlust

Not All Who Wander Are Lost

Three Days to Sweden: The Final Countdown

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The clock is ticking. Just three days separate me from the dream I’ve been chasing – my move to Sweden. It’s so close I can almost feel the cool Nordic breeze and hear the gentle hum of life in a place that already feels like home. But before I can dive headfirst into my Swedish adventure, there’s a mountain (or maybe several mountains?) of tasks to tackle.

Let’s talk about the chaos. First, there’s work. I’m still clocking in and staying under the radar because my PTO situation is, shall we say, dire. I’ve squeezed that lemon dry and am down to my very last day off. It’s a risky game, but what’s life without a little drama?

Then there’s the house. In the next three days, I need to stage it, paint it, and somehow make it market-ready- all while pretending I’m not on the verge of a total breakdown. Add to that the Herculean task of packing my life into a few suitcases and getting rid of everything that doesn’t fit (including the random junk I’ve somehow accumulated over the years). I swear, I’ve found items I didn’t even know existed. A fondue set? Really, past me?

Amid the chaos, there’s a guiding light: Sweden. The land of fika breaks, endless summer nights, and cozy winters is calling my name. But it’s not just Sweden itself pulling me forward – it’s the incredible man waiting for me there.

My husband, my rock, my constant source of love and encouragement, has been cheering me on from the other side of the Atlantic. Through every stressful moment, every frantic packing spree, and every late-night “what am I doing?” panic, he’s been there, reminding me that this is all worth it. He’s my reason for everything- the one who makes this big leap feel like coming home.

This move isn’t just about a new country or a fresh start; it’s about us. It’s about the life we’re building together, the adventures waiting for us, and the love that keeps us connected even when we’re an ocean apart.

Three days. Three chaotic, stressful, exhilarating days. Then, I’ll be in his arms, in the place where I belong. Sweden, I’m coming home- to you and to him.

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About the author

Hej! I’m Jenny —an American transplant who traded Southern humidity for Swedish mist, medieval ruins, and a deep appreciation for fika. I write from the perspective of someone discovering Sweden with wide-eyed wonder (and occasionally confused awe). From folklore and forest hikes to Viking bones and modern quirks, I’m on a journey to understand this beautiful, baffling country—and to tell its stories along the way.

Come wander with me—lagom pace, heart full of wanderlust!