Wednesday, 14 December 2011

Three Weeks

As we approach the day of departure, I have been practising my sobbing.

I seem to be experiencing all manner of emotion.  Concentrated by that departure date,  my laughter is bigger, my tears snottier, my mawkishness mawking like a fucking Saturday afternoon weepy on BBC2.  Christ I'm going.  At the risk of sounding incredibly pretentious, it feels like birth and like death.  Where I'm going I can only go alone, and I leave behind everything I have ever known.  Oh, how fucking twatty that sounds.

Tomorrow I am really having my leaving do at work.  There will be hectares of snot.  And then I'm seeing my good friend L for cocktails and food and probably further snot.

If Europe ever lacked a snot lake I could probably provide one in the next few weeks.

I know it's a beginning.  But right now it feels like the end of everything.  I'll be really pissed off if the world does end in 2012.  All that moving and expense for nothing.

No comments:

Post a Comment