It is May 1990. I’ve completed my Master's degree two years earlier, and I now realise that I don’t want to stop there. I dream of writing a doctoral thesis, but first I must get my licentiate degree. I have quit my job as the manager for the Tapiola Choir and I am living on fresh air. I apply for research grants until I hit the jackpot: the Department of Finnish Literature offers me a temporary three-month post as assistant.

I go and sign the employment contract. I am in ecstasy. I want to pet and pat the university, and I do: I run my hand along the corridor wall, sneak into the lecture hall and caress the wooden surface of the 'pews'. I feel like dancing in the hallways, and when no one is looking, I start to skip. This is where I belong, this is my home. The walls of the main building embrace me, secure with the yearning to know more.