As some of you already know, I'm going to be leaving London in a few weeks and moving to Cork. Yes! The Bearded One has finally got a job! At Cork Uni! I'm so chuffed! I've broken out in a nasty rash of exclamation marks!
He's off in a few days to find us a place to live. I'm going to sort things like packing out from this end (which means no more repeat-until-insane temp job for at least a few weeks). Yayness abounds.
There's stuff I'll miss, mostly my mates, but having been here for eight years I sort of feel like I've done London, y'know? There's always a lot going on here but it's so pricey you can't afford half of it. I'll miss the clubs and so forth ('specially the TG), but to be honest most of the best times I've had here have consisted of slouching round somebody's flat and playing computer games or watching videos, or slouching round in the pub and talking about playing computer games and wathcing vidoes. All of which I can still do in Cork. Plus I'll prolly be able to come back few months-- flights are cheap as chips.
It's funny how quickly things change. Last Tuesday I was feeling trapped and fed up and all cheesed-off generally, then a couple of days later I find out that we're leaving the country altogether in about three weeks' time.
I've been taking stock, remembering what it was like when I first moved here: not yet twenty-one, few friends, no money, no job, and no prospects. Now I've got half a degree, a sprawling social circle made up of excellent people, and I've started to actually sell stories. Best of all I've got the Bearded one, who helped make all the good stuff possible.
I'm still brassic lint, but hey.