Six more sleeps ...

It seems I've managed colour-co-ordinate myself with my luggage.

Hello Blog, I'm sorry you've been somewhat neglected for the last few weeks. I've been living in a nightmarish version of Groundhog Day in which I fill boxes with toot and then transport boxes to the economy storage facility ... aka, my parents loft. Originally, I thought it would spare me the small fortune that storage facilities charge and fiscally, yes, I've saved myself a fair few coins. But I'm still paying ... only the currency is guilt and sad looking parents whenever they ask, "How many more boxes are you going to bring over?" and I sheepishly reply, "maybe another two or three car loads ... er ... I don't know." Note to self: It's always two and a half times my estimate. Mind you, at one point, I thought that maybe it would just be better to buy some petrol, build a toot-fire (similar to a bonfire, yet exclusively toot), dowse with petrol and check a match at it. I suggested that, but apparently I shouldn't be stupid. I'm not sure it is stupid. I've certainly come to the conclusion that I'm not as sentimental as I used to be ... but I still have a sentimental threshold; who can discard anything created by children; I just can't throw away things like that.

My living room without quite as much toot as it would ordinarily have.

Anyway, after three weeks, the flat became clear and my Groundhog Day experience shifted gear into a new phase of pesky "to do" lists and yes, more boxes and recyling bags. Ahead of me is six more sleeps before I climb aboard the winged crystalis. One hopes I'll emerge in glorious rainbow colours, though I'm telling myself that in reality, I'm probably a moth. Consequently, I'm still not particularly excited, nor am I particularly stressed about things. It's probably the effect of Groundhog Dayism; everything is about completing "to do" lists and ironing things. I've actually started enjoying ironing; it's like respite from the tedium of putting toot in boxes. I'm half expecting to arrive in Japan feeling like a battery hen freed from my cage and feeling at a loss with my new found freedom from boxes and packing tape.

Its usually an insignificant spark that lights the touch-paper to my excitement. I wonder what it will be. The last time I was in Japan, it was the brilliance of Japanese user experience ... only at the time I didn't know it was called user experience ... it was just "hey, that's really cool ... I like the way they've really thought about this ... I love the way they've noticed this small little detail that makes the whole experience of using it joyful." In England the announcements on railway stations always perpetuate fear of exploding unattended baggage, but in Japan, announcements ring out like Christmas cheer. Of course, the last time I was in Japan I hadn't got a clue what was being said, but I liked to think that they were saying, "if you see a suspicious package left unattended, please report it to the station master ... because it might be a mysterious portal into a parallel universe in which dancing glitter bears, space kittens and paisley sugucorns."

Anyway dear blog, six more sleeps to wonderpan ... and I've missed Doctor Who tonight, so I'll watch that and go to bed.