It’s really hard to be patient. With a lot of the earlier problems ironed out like getting to and from work, doing laundry, grocery shopping, and riding my bike around the city, I have more time to think. My weekly routine is starting to assemble, but it also illuminates the fact that I now don’t have much going on. As my free time starts to accumulate, so does the nagging feeling that I need to be starting my life. I want to establish hobbies, good friends, good habits, an understanding of the Danish language, and maybe even find a nice girl. I understand that it won’t happen overnight, but I sure hope it happens sooner rather than later.
I want to be productive and valuable at work. I want to smash their expectations, and then some. I feel the urge to provide a big return on investment for a company that gave me this opportunity. Yet I’m still buried in trainings, introductory meetings, and the unavoidable new employee red tape. The lesson that gets drilled into my mind is that of patience. Patience for the insane amount of numbers, passwords, codes, and tax ID’s that I receive in the mail from the Danish government. Patience for the local bank account that holds my first paycheck, which I still don’t have access to. Most of all, patience for myself when I’m frustrated, when I mess up, and when I feel like a fish out of water in this foreign country. Prudentius was sure on to something when he proclaimed “Patience is a virtue”.