On the day I discovered Bert and Ernie’s courtship will never jet-boost beyond platonic, I accepted a job offer in London.
It’s an odd connection, admittedly, but there is a tenuous link between the two. Both were possibilities I never thought would really happen: One did. One didn’t. Sadly for Jim Henson’s finest and most convivial creations, I handed in my resignation yesterday.
It’s a strange feeling. On one hand, It’s the greening of new pastures; the end of job hunting, Skyping and cooking for one. But, on the other paw, I’ve just signed the release clause from the city I love. A place I’ve built a life, friends, reputation and career in the twelve years since I scuffled down from the very northern tip of Scotland.
It’s going to take some acclimatising. A 50 minute train journey in and out of London is going to feel like a life time in comparison to my normal 10 minute bus trip from just outside our meagre one bedroom flat on Murrayfield. While London, for all its places of intrigue, doesn’t have the rose-tinted allure of Edinburgh for me – yet.
Today, in preparation for the Big Move, I’ve been boxing up all our mounds of stuff. It’s incredible just how much tat/crap/Su’s clothing we’ve accumulated in the three years we’ve lived here. We came to this flat with just a couple of suitcases each and a few boxes. We’re leaving it with a van crammed to the rafters. God knows what it will look like when we eventually leave Colchester.
But this is an exciting time. It’s only really been a month since Su left, yet it has felt like a lifetime in terms of stress levels. Finally I feel like I’m getting my life back in to some semblance of order. Thank God.
As for Bert and Ernie, well, who knows what the future holds. Marriage might not be on the cards, but at least they’ve still got each other.
Here's a picture from just outside my soon-to-be new place of work.
*It's something my gran once said to me when I was 15. It still makes me laugh today