I'm leaving...on a jet plane...

Big bag

When I moved to Hong Kong in March 2000, I put my stuff in a couple of suitcases, said goodbye to friends and family and went.

When I went back to Sydney in July 2003, I packed two days before I left, said goodbye to friends and family and took off.

There ain't no such luck this time.

There are a million people to talk to, tons of papers to look at, shitloads of stuff to remember and take care of (mostly imposed on me by others) and just generally lots of milling about. Time-consuming, but not very productive, crap.

Thankfully, over the past three or four weeks, I've been given the luxury of doing all this shit during office hours, so it's not that bad; I'm grateful but I still wanna whine.

And after three or four weeks, a lot of it is done. This weekend, the movers are coming over to pack my stuff - while I watch them like a hawk - and cart that away to China. And while I am still here, I have to decide which apartment I will call home for at least the next 12 months, stock up on medicines, back up my computer, print photos, get a hair cut, take my byline picture.

I think I'm set.