Thirst

I’m totally parched. I’m dry as old boards. I feel like I have a mouth full of grit. It’s my own fault for drinking on a school night.

One of my friends who attended the gay rugby in Ireland met someone who works for my new employer. This chap is visiting London on his way home to Sydney and my friend suggested we meet up so I could get some info on my new job/colleagues etc. I anticipated having a couple of drinks and then heading home.

I was soooo wrong. I lurched through the front door of my house in the wee small hours (2am ish) totally hammered after having a brilliant evening.

I’m paying for it today. I only have one week left in this job and I considered calling in sick. I rejected that as my colleagues are great people and I should really enjoy being with them whilst I can so I dragged myself to the tube station and then on the train for my 1.5 hour journey, then on to the bus from the station to my office. It hit me this morning that the journey certainly isn’t something I’ll miss.

Once at work my unbelievable thirst took hold and I’ve been sitting here with a tongue the size of a bath sponge for about 3 hours.

On the up side I used the work fax to send off my newly signed contract for my new career across the other side of the world. Yes readers… I’m leaving my beloved London for the desert (sadly not dessert!) sands of Abu Dhabi. I had no intentions of going to live there until I visited my friend earlier this year but during my visit I realised I quite liked it and that there is a lot of potential there. I applied for a job, without any actual hopes of getting it but, terrifyingly, they flew me back to Abu Dhabi for an interview and offered me the job.

I’ve handed in my notice and I’m having the summer off. I begin my new adventure on the last day of August.

I’m a bit scared. And still thirsty.