Flights are booked, suit is being picked up from the dry cleaner in a few hours, going to get a 'smart work haircut', about to start packing and have polished the shoes.
Yes, something is afoot.
The Firm for whom I'll be working are having me over to London for a chit-chat on Friday and as I've been home for three weeks, and have reacted to the boredom of the holidays with ridiculous amounts of alcohol and by becoming a bit of a bon viveur, it is maybe time to take an adventure.
My Dad's family all live in Kent in the south of England, a beautiful area of the world known as 'the garden of England'. As you may be aware, the temperature at the moment there as approximately three degrees cooler than the surface of the sun, and shows no sign of changing. Lovely. I'm the sort of tough safari-man who gets a sunburn by standing too close to the toaster in the morning. I'm gonna be roasted.
This move is an attempt to fulfil several things at once:
1) I'm bored. I always look forward to the holidays, but always get ridiculously bored of them after about a fortnight. I sat a few days ago and stared at a beautifully arranged (but slightly suspicious-smelling) bunch of flowers for the Mother's 50th, for about two hours.
2) Although great fun, I'd like some adventures that don't have the words 'alcohol', 'concussion' or 'Bangkok lady-boys' inherent in their telling, and would like to pursue some wholesome tomfoolery of the sort seen in Midsomer Murders/Kingdom.
3) I'M TOTALLY FUCKING BROKE!! My aunt needs some work done to a nightclub she owns, and also has kids (my little cousins) whom I can look after and babysit. So some form of productive expenditure of time, a chance to flex the handy-man muscle and a chance to catch up with my cousins (one of whom, who has the same birthday as me, but is only 7, I've never met)
4) I have a very limited amount of the world's greatest resource, parental good will, left at my disposal. With a 'job' job lined up, the degree, and my recent attempts to not be a grumpy shite, I have some left. With no summer job, the fact I'm a nite owl and tramp about the house at all hours, and the fact that I'm somewhat gangly and take up a lot of room in our wee house, I don't have forever before the bank runs dry.
So, tomorrow morning I fly from City of Derry Airport to Luton, then spend the day in transit (which I love) ambling down over the iron road to Lahndan, then on to Chatham. It'll hopefully be lovely and sunny, and I'll have a million years worth of groovy tunes and, yes, my TERRIBLE SECRET to listen to. I'll stay with the Aunt, then go up to London on Friday. When I come back, I came dawdle or hurry at returning home, but hell, I have a free month, so why not see what happens?
I'll have my camera and laptop with me, so we can all share in the joy as I blindly stumble through the summer.
Wish me luck!