There's a line early in The Fellowship of the Ring where Bilbo says he feels "thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread." I read it years ago and didn't think much of it. Lately it's the most accurate description of me I've come across.

Not in the way Bilbo takes it. He's ready to leave it all behind; I'm not looking for a boat into the West. But goddamn, life is heavy sometimes. Not in one big dramatic way. More like a lot of small weights that never quite get put down.

I'm trying hard to disconnect. Less scrolling, less news, fewer screens. The problem is that there's nowhere to disconnect to. Everything happens online now. Plans, friendships, hobbies, even arguments. Log off and you're not somewhere else, you're just nowhere.

There used to be third places: not home, not work, just somewhere you ended up. A café with regulars, a club, a pub where someone would know your name eventually. Places you could meet people without it being a whole project. Those have mostly disappeared, or turned into somewhere you sit alone with your phone in the company of other people sitting alone with theirs.

Here in Uppsala it's even more lopsided. This is a student town, and the social life is built for students: nations, clubs, the whole machine. If you're in it, you're never short of people. If you're not, you're kind of out of luck. And at 36 I'm not about to start hanging out in student bars, trying to look like I meant to be there.