London

TOj and I have maintained extensive conversations over the last couple of weeks or so. But in what must surely count for an oddity, the outcome of the conversations is the sense of being neither here nor there. It might be the fact that we have always known each other in a different context that’s added a layer of awkwardness to it all. The big question, looming large at the back of my mind therefore is if it’s time to cut my losses to ensure we remain just friends, or if it’s worth the gamble of finding out how she feels about me.

London calls… Having manfully beaten its lure over the holidays to enable a much needed season of introspection, I had to cave in to summons over the phone from my Uncle C, especially because he and el madre seemed to be in cahoots on this one. Ostensibly, the reason for the summons are my lack of endeavour in the girl stakes. My strategy has been to keep them in the dark on the details of my love life/ non-love life. Somehow Uncle C convinced Mum that our corner of the world up in Scotland is a hell hole of sorts with next to zero prospects of meeting eligible women, hence the need to get me out there in London. ...

Three quarters of the way through the year, I find I still have just under three weeks of holidays left - and that does not include the productivity black-hole that is the last week of December when all and sundry truly grinds to a halt. Once again, in spite of my plans to not be in this situation, I have ended up hoarding holidays again, the plan being to use them as a make weight in lieu of notice as my plan to swap cold, windy, Aberdeen for the slightly warmer, but more rural climes that are Kirkland Lake. The BossMan has made it clear there will be no carry overs this year, and he has made sure to ping the appropriate warning email in my direction in addition to the automated ones sent by our holiday tracking software. All told after one too many reminders, I log on to Teamseer and fire off holiday requests for an extended weekend. ...

The difference is clear - the first few blasts of slightly warm air as I step out of onto the tarmac are the clearest reminder that I have left my small town’s five degree weather behind for at least a couple of days. It is a year almost to the day since I last passed through London - that blatantly self centred and most cosmopolitan of cities - and as usual I feel ill at ease. Blame my small town mentality - in the little corner of the world where I grew up, every one knew every one else and their grand mother.. and their second cousins twice removed. One was as likely to get whupped by the bloke down the street who felt you were up to no good as you were by your own father.. ...