Like a junkie shivering and sweating for my next fix all I can think is getting the hell out of here. Monday is a route to Friday, nine a route to five.
The Police deferral has most certainly knocked everything out of alignment. Everything I thought I'd prepared myself for has been thrown beyond reach for the immediate future. It's like having been granted clearance to land and then being ordered back into a holding pattern. Circling... Endlessly.
Hell, I haven't even dared ring the recruitment officers up yet for fear of doing myself a serious disservice by going on the offensive.
I'm holding Prague up as the cure to all my ills, but I fear I'm putting all my chits on the wrong number once again. Usually by this stage I'm getting quite excited about the prospect of a new country, subtly different culture and a foreign tongue wrapping itself around my ears, but so far I seem to have none of that pleasant anticipation building. I'm just waiting. Very impatiently. The singular thought I repeat like a broken record in my mind is the hope that all of this accumulated stress and worry is going to disappear beneath those wings.
You know what's even more worrying? I've already started packing. It's Tuesday for godsakes, I fly on Sunday.
Note to self: Do not bring leaden-sky attitude with you to the Czech Republic, t'is a repelling trait.