I feel great that I have already voted. I have the weekend off; otherwise, my entire Sunday would have been devoted to voting. There is something solemn about voting. My little vote—does it mean anything? Does it really matter if I vote? And then I think about countries where people fought so hard to gain the right to vote at all. Women’s suffrage is a story in itself.
There was a long line at the library for voting. I have read so many books, and now I view them from a different perspective because I write them myself.
Waiting at the library gave me a sense of wonderful calm. The same calm I felt in Uppsala when I used to go to the Medical Library at Akademiska to study for exams. A place where no one else was around except the librarian. Memories of the library in Heby also returned to me—where I read everything from Alice Lyttkens to books on training hunting dogs. I believe Vivaldi´s Winter is my best friend at the moment.
