The Holy Day


I am moving to Hamburg today! On this sunny, calm Sunday. Of course I do plan ahead, so at the breakfast table I said, “I guess I will take the afternoon train because I probably should do some grocery shopping so that I have something to eat tomorrow morning”. I had pictured myself navigating through the new city straight to the Rewe supermarket – or rather Lidl for tradition’s sake – and buying muesli, joghurt, apples, you know the usual menu you get at Helen’s Awesome Crib a Monday morning. In my head, I already saw myself paying half of what I always pay at home in Stockholm. And then my mother breaks the news to me. “What do you mean, do grocery shopping? It is Sunday. The only groceries you will get are at Hamburg Central Station”. And those are certainly at least as expensive as in Stockholm. It is the holy day today, the day God used for rest. The day German law still protects. The day families go for walks in the woods and teenagers cure their hangover. And I have entirely forgotten everything is closed. In Stockholm, I would probably be at Åhléns right now worshipping consumerism. I haven’t quite decided whether or not I like Germany’s closed-Sunday-law. But I hope mom will give me a box with muesli for tomorrow.

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