No, nothing's wrong... I think

When my flatmate Kim saw me this evening she gave me an odd look and asked how I was. It turned out that she thought I looked as thought something was wrong. That took me aback a little, since I don't think anything is wrong. I will admit that my mind has seemed to be elsewhere over the last few days. I'm not sure where exactly, although sometimes I think I catch a glimpse of it out of the corner of my eye. When I turn to look, however, it's gone. I'm sure it will turn up in it's own good time anyway.

I'm not sure about the whys of it either. I seem to be accosted by a vague and non-descript melancholy. Nothing particularly noteworthy or severe, but it's there, scuttling around at the periphery of my consciousness. I think part of it comes from the increasing amount of time I seem to spend pondering the future and the end of my self-imposed exile in London. I'm not pondering in a bad way - on the contrary, I'm very much looking forward to the move - if anything I'm annoyed that it still seems so far off, like Christmas Eve, when the night seems to stretch out forever.

I'm not asking for much. I only want the future.

Now.