Sorry, I'm waxing lyrical on the benefits of the internet. I think this is pretty pointless, since these are quite obvious benefits these days.
Interestingly enough for me at least, the Conchords gig started with a raft of technical problems. None of these problems are as stupid as my gig problems from the other night, but it's nice to see that even big name acts have occasional problems. It's part of gigging live.
Today has been quite a day. I've been in Newcastle all day. I managed to be reasonably productive in my work, even writing some software. At lunch, I skipped out to give away some of my stuff to a charity shop. After work, though, the real sorting began. Oooh, and I nearly forgot to mention that a skip appeared at my house at 9.45. This skip is now completely full. Some of the stuff in the skip probably has intrinsic value, but there's just no point in trying to rescue it or sort it out for giving away. I say there's no point. More importantly, there's no time. Time is not on my side.
However, as I was starting to despair of the sheer workload ahead of me, a couple of friends arrived from Leeds to help out. Suddenly, the items were disappearing into the skip almost of their own accord. Rooms were emptying. Things were racing along.
I got a little bit emotional as I disassembled my office furniture, which I'd built when I lived here. I discovered how keenly engineered it was and how hard it was to take to pieces afterwards. It would have stayed sturdy for many many years to come. I also threw out the old fishbowl and had to relive the fact that the fish died. We gave him a burial at sea in the river Tyne.
It was a strange experienced throwing the remaining possessions away. I hadn't realised how much I left behind last time. I've already filled one skip from the contents of this house.
But this is progress. My life is not here any more and I need to move on. I will, tomorrow. But I'll be back. I have to come back another time with a van to pick up the crap that remains (unless, for some bizarre reason, all the stuff I've decided to bring back should happen to fit in my boot).
Oh, and I shouldn't forget the thanks to the lads who helped make this possible. We had late night curry and laughter and some of the stuff was diverted from skip to their houses, which is only fair. Though nobody wanted to lay a claim on the tin of tuna chunks, empty but still dirty, that we found.