A hard fall means a high bounce… if you’re made of the right material.

January 28, 2007 at 1:00 am (Relocation)

I’ve often thought there is a very valid business proposition in witness relocation. Not necessarily because you’re a target of the mob, perhaps more because you’re bored. Sick of the daily grind. Sick of getting up in the middle of January and facing the sleet and ice to fight your way onto a steaming tube, to spend eight hours in the office with people we don’t like. What if there was someone you could ring who would whisk you away from that. What would you make of the opportunity?

Working abroad was my opportunity. Obviously as a witness reaction it would have failed miserably, partially because I hadn’t witnessed a crime (unless you’re counting watching my council tax and my local amenities got worse and worse) but secondly because I seem to have brought so much of my old life with me.

I’ve had that fresh start, I’ve been offered it but now, six months in, how fresh is it?
I appear to have packed my resentments, bad temperand petty insecurities. And my phobia’s.

I was at a birthday party today, an adult birthday party and they had hired a bouncy castle. It’s amazing the things you’ll do when you don’t have the option of just meeting people at the pub. I watched everyone bouncing with gay abandon, then I watched the hose come out and the washing up liquid and the thought of getting on and joining in left me paralyzed with fear. It wasn’t the thought of being in close contact with people although I’ll be honest, the idea of being that close to humanity does fill me with revulsion, it’s more the whole bouncing thing I think. 

Why can’t I have a normal phobia? Like a fear of clowns.


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