The Skinny

I just love getting out of town. I'm different "there". I get a feeling of untapped potential, contrasting with the usual feeling of nothing-the-fuck-to-do here. I returned today to my first ever court summons (for unpaid rent). With luck, I can orchestrate matters so it's illegal for me to ever set foot in Virginia again!

My court date is September 8th. I wonder if I'll even still be in the country. I confirmed the previously-mentioned U.K. job over the weekend and they're kinda waiting for me to get back so they can start the project. I was sought out and informed of another quite-senior U.K. vacancy, which flattered me and boosted my confidence no end. So, barring a miracle this week, I'm off. There's nothing left to do here except pack, have a final beer with friends and try to get laid one last time. You know, for the road.

My belongings will go into storage here except for the clothes and music collection. There will be a cheap-ass sale of some furniture (watch this space) and the gorgeous 32" flat screen Sony TV I bought for $650 five months ago (offers welcome). In a few months, I'll see whether my two remaining Seattle leads have any vacancies (and how much is will cost in legal fees to return after a break) or whether to find something long term at home. Stability is desirable, but so is Frasier City.

That's the sitch, Mitch. Tonight I catch up on my favourite blogs. When you hear of Brad's "Where's Marcus?" post via a virtual stranger in Indiana, you know you're out of the loop! Tomorrow I begin converting the six sets of notes in my Draft folder into funny stories about strippers, and in a day or two I'm gonna get a whole bunch of stuff off my chest and out of my system in the vain hope of drawing a line under this (hopefully singular) chapter of my life. It might get weird, or it might not: let's find out!