Thursday, 19 April 2007
Hold on, we're on our way. . . in a bit
Listening to: Confess (The Levellers)
Reading: Starting with Pigs (Andy Case)
Drinking: ice-cold Stella
Shrewsbury is a lovely town, particularly when the spring turns out to be as beautiful as this year's (thanks for the carbon emissions everyone).
But I can't be hanging around too much longer. The estate agent will be here tomorrow, the house is sparkling like John Travolta's teeth and we are ready to do business. Thrust £195,000 into my hot and sweaty bank account and a delightful semi in a quiet suburb is all yours.
There have been unforeseen complications that have made moving away from the Midlands particularly hard and at times my mental and emotional strength has been tested to the very limit.
You might scoff, but fulfilling a dream is nowhere near as easy or even as fun as it sounds. Confidence has been a major issue. Virtually everything I have tried to do since accepting redundancy last year has been on a learn-as-you-go basis and stumbling around in the dark can be pretty wearing.
The fact that I have returned briefly to journalism on a freelance basis to get some money in has not helped, the contrast between the world where I feel comfortable and confident in my own abilities and the world where I know very well I am winging it being a stark one. My wife tells me it's just a matter of practice, but I've been practising snooker for 35 years and I still haven't won the world title.
Still, I'm about ready to go now and get on with the next stage of my life. I received an e-mail from a pig breeder near Thurso, telling me he had stock available if I wanted it and I'm inclined to say 'I do'. That means getting the finger out, packing the croquet set and heading north.
As sun streamed through the bedroom window this morning, the BBC weather forecast managed to drag itself away from the London area to tell us that there would be wintry showers and gales in the Northern Isles. Great, can't wait.