Why does Train WiFi speak sweedish?

I’m writing this on the train, with bed-head that I'm not sure is acceptable for 10:36 in the morning:

I am reminded of January/February last year, when I literally use to commute on the trains, for the sake of it. It was social commuting to an extent, but I just loved the buzz of sitting there with my laptop, and a box of sushi, pretending I had some epic meeting to attend, (when really I was just going to change trains to go to Bangor/Bristol/Watford/Norwich), sneakily obtaining 1st class upgrades, and meeting a lot of African businessmen/Eastern European surgeous. Was a pretty fun time though. I need to rediscover that side to myself, the spontaneous explorer.

I’ve been offered a job in Italy for the summer, my initial thought was ‘I can’t do that.’

But why not? That’s the kind of thing I love to do, and I’m happiest when I’m exploring, and getting myself into scrapes that ‘could only happen to you, Louise’.

Either,

a) that fun part of me has been repressed over the last little while because I’m not as happy as the national average (?!), or

b) maybe I am becoming permenantly mature and responsible.

I kinda hope it’s the former, then at least I can rekindle it.