Independent University Newspaper
Copenhagen Business School

Independent University Newspaper

Copenhagen Business School

I can’t wait…

young woman sitting on a bench

(Private photo: Vera Francine Claver)

I can’t wait till masks are just for fighting blackheads.

I can’t wait to take the train without having trouble breathing and seeing through my misted-up glasses.

 

I can’t wait to have a draught beer without getting a cotton bud in my nose first.

I can’t wait to walk from bar to bar without wondering about reservations.

 

I can’t wait to wake up Monday at 6 am, hating it and wondering if it’s necessary to go to class at 8.

I can’t wait to get out to a wet bicycle saddle and bike in headwind and drizzle towards campus.

I can’t wait to gather my band and drive for hours to a small town in Jutland to play at yet another wedding

I can’t wait to be spontaneous and act on it right away.

I can’t wait to hug people I just met without fearing infection.

 

I can’t wait to not fear the people around me when I get in a crowded metro.

I can’t wait till a snuffle doesn’t result in scowls from the other passengers in the bus.

 

I can’t wait to gather my band and drive for hours to a small town in Jutland to play at yet another wedding.

I can’t wait to wake up and feel like I’ve been run over by a bus because I got home at 5 am after a gig.

 

I can’t wait till curfew is something I associate with my mom and me being a teenager.

I can’t wait to talk to strangers at a random bar at 3 am Saturday night.

I can’t wait to fear the long needle coming towards my shoulder. Both times

I can’t wait to gather my family and hug my grandparents.

I can’t wait to get home tired as hell from a birthday with too much noise and too many people.

 

I can’t wait to dress up in glitter, high heels and all the clothes I bought online during lockdown.

I can’t wait to spend way too much money at an overpriced cocktail bar.

 

I can’t wait to get stressed out just by looking at my calendar.

I can’t wait to use my calendar and have Sunday as a restitution day after a long week.

 

I can’t wait to go to a concert and feel the rush through my body at the first kicks on the bass drum.

I can’t wait to have sore feet, rasping throat and a little tinnitus afterwards.

 

I can’t wait to not think: “I caught it” when I wake up with a headache.

I can’t wait till Corona isn’t the main topic of most conversations.

 

I can’t wait to fear the long needle coming towards my shoulder. Both times.

 

I can’t wait to have my life back.

Till we get our lives back.

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