Back in London. Not Happy About It.

I didn't want to come back. The thought of London heading into winter made my skin crawl, and I ached for warmth, and endless blue skies, and warm turquoise waters. I don't know what I'm doing in London, clearly I'm meant to be near a beach, in togs, with an average temprature of too-hot. I had a brilliant time, I really did. And I have photos and stories (all sorts of stories. Of bribing policemen, and of trips across borders for drinks and desserts) and I have all sorts of good things to tell you. I do. And I'll get it to. I will. But not now.

Now I'm wallowing in those post holiday blues. I'm horribly upset to have to be in London, to be sitting at a desk in an office instead of galovanting across countries in a red van. To not be soaking in the warmth on a jetty overlooking a gorgeous harbour. Every inch of me is screaming to be somewhere else. Anywhere else, and that's not a state I like being in.

So, until I've got my feet back on the ground, and my head out of the clouds I'ma be a bit absent from the blogging world. I'll still be around, reading your blogs, and getting my angst out on twitter, but rarg will be a quiet for a bit.

Until I'm back, this is where my head is. There is where I was. This is where I want to be.