The day before

"But we're never gonna survive unless we get a little crazy..."

Seal




You're on a swing. You've got your momentum going. You're as high as the creaky chains will allow, you don't even need to push your legs anymore. The wind is in your hair and you feel light as a feather. Suddenly you're too high, too fast. Instinctively you put your feet on the ground as if to break but you're travelling too fast and inevitably your legs skid along the bark making a loud scraping noise. For what seems like forever you're in limbo, sliding, unable to fully apply the brakes.

For the past week I have been on the proverbial swing, my final destination approaching rapidly, me powerless to slow down the descent. The last few days have been filled with the odd feeling of un-employment, final farewells, bottomless to-do lists, the dreaded packing process and major 'what ifs' and 'how to's.

Packing has culminated in a frustrating cycle of packing, weighing, un-packing, re-packing, re-weighing and discovering the suitcase weighs more than ever before. And of course the vicious cycle only provokes the more inane thoughts floating at the forefront of my mind. For example, sure it may seem ridiculous now to pack two face-scrubs, three day creams and no less than three billion mini shampoos and conditioners, but my inate thriftiness (or stinginess) has pointed out that the last thing I'll want to be spending my precious pounds on is toiletries after leaving an arsenal of products at home. Practicality will surely intervene anytime soon. Surely.

And despite the fact that my suitcase is practically bursting at the seams, my room still looks the same. Books are still on shelves, DVDs are on top of the TV, Vanity Fair and Vogue are still messily stacked as if the reader will be back at any minute. Favourite photos are still in frames. This pains me. To be unable to transport all my creature comforts at a time when everything will be so unfamiliar is driving a wedge through my heart.

Buy new books, take new photos, collect other magazines my head says. It is supposed to be a new life after all. Suddenly the old life doesn't seem so bad. Suddenly staying at home, in bed, sounds like the proper solution to everything. Flying to the other side of the world to start a new life? Crazy. What was I thinking.


Ladies and gentleman of the jury, I am going to be cheesy and lazy and finish with lyrics from my favourite travel song. Wish me luck.


Maybe Tomorrow- Stereophonics

I've been down and I'm wondering why
these little black clouds keep walking around with me

It wastes time and I'd rather be high
think i'll walk me outside and buy a rainbow smile
but be free
they're all free

So maybe tomorrow I'll find my way home
So maybe tomorrow I'll find my way home

I look around at a beautiful life
been the upperside of down
been the inside of out
but we breathe
we breathe

I wanna breeze and an open mind
I wanna swim in the ocean
wanna take my time for me
oh me

So maybe tomorrow I'll find my way home...