// Come on Sweden, do we really have to do this?//
On Monday, when my fellow students will be getting drunk on a beach (or just in their apartment), I will be a nervous wreck. I’ve got a date with the Swedish Embassy. It’s not an easy date to land. I’ve had to seduce her with my ability to fill out the most bureaucratic form on Earth. I’ve had to call her several times to make sure we still have a date. She is fickle. And I hope she isn’t as judgmental as her thick accent seems on the phone.

