The best years – or, at least, the most important years – of our lives, I’ll wager, are not those which contain all the best stuff, but the most momentous. Doors close, others open, windows are left slightly ajar, allowing a steady and continual breeze to waft in, year after year; lights go out; decisions are made; other things occur which are beyond our control; books are read; trousers are lost. [Stolen from Oliver Tearle’s New Year’s blogpost.]
I don’t often pry on people following me on Twitter but yesterday, out of curiosity, I clicked on Oli’s page and read this excerpt from his blog. Needless to say I was floored–save for the bit about the trousers because, well…those aren’t the articles of clothing I’m often wont to lose. But that’s an aside.
So why all this and why the silence?
I’ve just resigned from my job and come to terms with the fact that desk jobs really aren’t for me.
So one door has closed and another is set to open. I’m mostly just tired so I’m keeping this short. Here’s to the next adventure–and if you ever get to read this, Oli, thank you for the words.