The provisional agreement of how much we will get on leaving next year has been made. Course, this starts dreams of how to spend it, but mine started incredibly practical; pay off all annual bills, any debts outstanding, new puta, washing machine (rather than renting it) so that I can probably survive, for at least a year, on the likely lower salary.
However, a new thought came into my head, or the old home sickness if you like, dreaming of my old home. I think I have memories of what it was, not what it became and was growing to hate. There are old ghosts that I need to lay to rest, and people I should see, in case that it is a long, long time before I go back again. So, next spring, I'm going back to the borough in which I was born, for a week maybe, confront the ghosts and come back...home...and maybe free of the doubts, and rid of some of the fears.