Dear future hubster

 Dear future hubster, I know it's been a while. Not sure if I  have to explain why, with your being entirely a product of my imagination, I guess I also get to decide what you already know, but yeah, new country new job new life etc. Having to learn where the best/cheapest/least crowded supermarket is, and how their checkout process works, and deciding if I'm willing to put up with their less than ideal workflows. Having to learn the metro directions (why does every big city have a weird circle line that can get you to the same place in 14 or 40 minutes depending on which way you go?), and to  not rely on Google maps when it comes to the tram, and rather using the local transport system's app (I don't want to download another app, please, and don't even try with your QR code menus). Having to navigate keyboard distributions that are contradictory, while 4 languages are being spoken around me, 2 of which I speak and 2 of which I kinda understand so I can't really...

 Dear future hubster, today I am going to be one of those people I usually find annoying, saying great things about somebody who's just died, not having mentioned them or their work's impact on my life in the recent or not so recent past. And maybe I am also one of those cliché girls, swearing on a book that changed their lives. Many books have changed my life though. Today's story is about The Unbearable Lightness of Being, of which I own multiple copies in at least two languages - I thought I'd read it in 3 but I'm not so sure anymore. I also distributed many more during the years to people as a sort of parting gift - if you ever meet somebody who received one from me, please tell them that it means that there was a time when I felt so close to them that I wanted to let them in on a revelation; that I wanted to share with them something I thought I'd understood about life. That revelation, understanding, interpretation, simplified to a motivational poster leng...

 Dear future hubster, if there was one good thing coming out of the lockdown misery of the early pandemic days (erm, first two years), then it must be the reduced occurence of bra-wearing, and my attitude towards free titties (my own, mostly).  I now give fewer fcks when venturing outside without said clothing item (while, I  need to clarify for historical records, I do wear other clothing items) - the number is not zero yet, but it is lower.  Who knew.