Two weeks ago my company said goodbye to the Borough Market; to sunsets over London Bridge; to the Nazis on downstairs security.
We packed everything and moved east. Temporarily. While we find a home worthy of our fabulousness. Until that time we are bunking down in an 80s revival office at the arse end of Canary Wharf, London's pinstriped financial district. Someone really needs to invent a new shirt pattern.
And so I said goodbye to my cathartic walks to work. Hello to tube rides in and out of a station where I am always the only person wearing jeans. Unless I'm with a colleague.
Not only has my work life relocated, but shortly my home life will do the same.
Yes, it is also goodbye to 11 Langham House.
Hello 196 Cedars Road. Hello a slightly more civilised living space and two wonderful women. Goodbye lovely housemates. Fortunately I wont be saying goodbye to Clapham. I tried to move north but instead the fates wished me to stay. And so I move from the south side to the north side of the Common.
A little further from the tube station. A little closer to..... well, a little closer a few things really.
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