My so-called mate finally shipped off to Oz last week, but before he went, he had a leaving do at a touristy pub by the Thames. To be honest, hardly anyone showed up and I felt sorry for him, so stayed with him most of the night, telling him it didn’t matter and that at least I had shown up. At the end of the evening, well, a couple of hours after it ‘officially’ started I had had enough and was saying my goodbyes which was obviously painful for him as I noticed tears in his eyes when I managed to prise myself from his grip. I don’t blame him for crying; I’d miss me if I went to the other side of the world without me, but hey-ho.
What else….Oh yeah! I quit my job at the council, working on the dust is fine for a couple of years, but after a while it pales and I’m keen to try something else. It was agony deciding this one; I’m taking a huge risk leaving a reasonably well-paid and secure job for basically, a contract job, in an industry I’m totally unfamiliar with. I guess we’ll soon see if I f**k this up. The thing is, I’m bored, underpaid, career going no-where, no prospect of earning any more dosh and everyone I’ve known on the job has left! I am like Chingachgook, last of the Mohicans, I tell ya.
a warrior goes to you swift and straight as an arrow shot into the sun. Welcome him and let him take his place at the council fire of my people. [pause] He is Uncas, my son. [pause] Bid them patience and ask death for speed; for they are all there but one - I, Chingachgook - Last of the Mohicans.
Anyway - some pic's from Nige's leaving do - I will miss you, my friend.
