Baroo

My Dear Fellow

I have said it before, and I’ll say it again. I am not good when it comes to anticipating future events. I can imagine imaginary things easily enough. Look, it’s a dancing squirrel playing a harmonica. But imagining actual future things seems to elude me. Oftentimes this is a good thing. It explains how I was so cheerful being wheeled into the operating theatre for hernia surgery because I had such a hard time imagining a dude with a scalpel at the end of the corridor.
 
Of course, once I was IN there, I was all, “Oh… er… hey now… let’s not be hasty…” But by then it was too late and it is hard to run away in a smock. Trust me, I considered Usain Bolting it out of there, but some of those nurses looked pretty swift and unlike me they were wearing UNDERPANTS.
 
It’s the same with emigration. I can sort of imagine it. I know it will be exciting and sad and thrilling and weird and uncomfortable and amazing all at once. But imagining it properly? I’ve no idea. And anyway, we’ve been talking about it so long, my brain is having trouble believing that the rest of me really means it this time. As a result, up to now the reality of it has not really occurred to me.
 
But then came today and out of nowhere came a PANG of regret that kind of shoulder-charged me and knocked me into a heap. Seriously, I have no idea why today and what this is about. I am outwardly maintaining a cheerful demeanour but inside I want to howl like a lonely dog.
 
BAROOOOOOO-
 
Like that.
 
Of course, it does not do for Business Analysts to howl out loud in an office and besides I know I am just being silly and will be back to normal tomorrow. So I have come to a decision. I shall watch telly and eat things. We all have to sublimate in our own way. Lonely dogs have to howl, Business Analysts have to gargle Maltesers –
 
-OOOOOOOO!!
 
Stop that.

El P.