One

A year. It's been a year already. Where did the time go? One moment Jonathan is teasing me with the prospect of a blog of my very own, and then next I know I'm here, 366 days, 357 entries and 533 of your comments later. If I were a betting man I'd have likely wagered that before the first new moon had passed, blog here would be abandoned, left lying alone, unloved and forgotten, whimpering in the darkness. But my bloody-minded persistance about the whole affair has surprised even me. I suspect this is largely because I know that if I ever attempt to become a casual poster, someone who only posts when there's something of significance to write about, I'll simply never post at all. I am a born procrastinator after all, and without some sort of structure or timetable, be it imposed by myself or by others, I'll simply drift away. So I maintain my rigidly defined posting schedule, the consistency of which is probably a little worrying - my preferred posting windows appear to be from 23:38 to 23:41 and from 23:57 to 23:59. Oh, there are plenty of exceptions too, but enough posts fall between those times that it's probably worth the raise of an eyebrow or two.

I suppose today is a good time to look back over the last twelve months, to see where I am now compared to where I was then. It pleases me some that there are things I can stab my finger at that are decidedly different - it would have worried me some if nothing had altered. Of all these probably the most significant is that I've found myself living on my own for the first time in my life. Solitary creature that I am, I have to report that it's wonderful to finally be beholden to none save myself (well, and my landlords, I suppose...). Space is something I covet, and whilst I don't actually require much of it (cf Edinburgh flat), I do need some if it. Needless to say I believe this bodes well for my long awaited return to Edinburgh and my fabled flat (even if I won't necessarily have a job waiting for me when I get up there, sniff).

On the other hand some things have remained all too constant. Twice over the last year, I came so very close to throwing in the towel, quitting my job and catching the next train/plane northwards. This included one very serious attempt at resigning, despite which I still find myself here some six months later. I ended up in a similar situation at my last job - I resigned and finally left six months later. It's a habit I really must get out of. It doesn't do me, or my morale, any good at all. There have been so many occasions when I just wanted to get up and get out, to get away (the question of why I didn't is best left for another time - I don't think I can easily answer it). I felt the same way over the weekend too. How easy it would be to not go back to work today. To just call in, apologise and then never go back. To do something entirely different instead. I don't know what, exactly, just something different. Change is what I want/need now. Change is good. But I'm still here, still determined to see it all through until Christmas, though I'll confess this is now largely because my lease doesn't allow me to exit before then, and to try to do so earlier would prove a costly adventure. Change will still be good in four months time.

A year has passed. A whole year. I still find it hard to believe. One question that's cropped up in my mind on a frequent basis regarding the amount of effort it's taken me to keep this thing going is: "Has it all be worth it?" Some days I'd have been inclined to answer no, others yes. And today... today I've been asking myself where did the last year go and for the first time I have a record of it. Not all of it, admittedly - there are too many gaps, too much nonsense, too many secrets. But there's enough recorded that I can look back and dwell on some memories that might otherwise have... faded, if not vanished entirely.

Yes it's been worth it.