Change, and the Problem of Planning

It's been a while since I last posted, and there's no real excuse for that. I could claim I have been incredibly busy (and that claim would be true) but it's no excuse for taking half an hour out to sit down with a cup of tea and write.

In fact, it may even have helped somewhat.

That said, being busy, now that it's over at least, has given me a lot to write about; today I wanted to write about change and the problem with planning. Hence the cleverly thought out and beautifully descriptive title. 

Now, I have no problem with plans, theoretically. The issue arises in that, because of how this world works, they're innately doomed to failure. As Henry Von Moltke the Elder so wonderfully put it, "No plan of operations extends with certainty beyond the first encounter with the enemy's main strength", or as we often bastardise it to today, "No plan survives contact with the enemy."

In this case, the enemy is that inconsiderate, self-absorbed bitch that we call Life. 

Life is that person who turns up late to the party, already drunk (on account of having downed the bottle of wine she was bringing for the party en route). She swaggers in, unapologetic, and proceeds to gruesomely devour the buffet table, utterly without care for the carefully placed decorations or layout. Her fat face stuffed, she saunters into the centre of the party and interrupts every conversation to explain how great (or woeful) her life is, totally devoid of empathy for others. Your party has now been completely usurped and you're left wondering exactly whose idea it was to invite Life anyway. 

Oh, and you'll wake up next morning to find that life crashed on your sofa uninvited, vomited on the upholstery and is now helping herself to your cereal. Again, having finished, she'll suddenly 'realise what the time is', make her excuses and leave you to clean up the aftermath. 

But hey, that's just Life. 

I spent Christmas up north with Morgan and her family, and genuinely had a lovely time (in spite of a particularly vicious, but not entirely unexpected, grilling from her mother). We had spoken beforehand that Morgan wanted to move back north one day in the future, perhaps in a years time or so. 

On the day after Boxing Day, we began our journey east to Yorkshire to join the rest of The Lagan for a gig in the Chesterfield area, at a Working Mans Club in Featherstone. As we left, we both commented and agreed that it felt weird to be leaving and that one day this would be a great place to raise a family. I mentioned then that I had little holding me back, physically, but Morgan pointed out that she was about to move into a flat with which she would have a mortgage and thus a foot on the property ladder. 

I mention all of this and then hasten to add that Morgans initial plan with the flat was to move in there on her own - to have her own private space to be on her own. Then, apparently, I had come along and scuppered that. 

Back in June/July last year, I commented to a group of friends that the only reason I was still choosing to live in Epsom/London was to continue my employment with Games Workshop until such time as the Canterbury store became available. Thence, I would do everything in my power to get that position and move back south to be closet to my friends and family. That was the plan, at least.

So, the point I'm making is that, as if summer last year, my plan was to stay employed, then move back to Kent. Morgans plan was to move into her own personal space, save money, then move back north. 

As I write this, Morgan and I are planning for the next few weeks when we will both be shopping considerable quantities of our personal belongings north to Lancashire. The handover date for the Kingston flat was pushed back to mid-February, leaving Morgan homeless for at least three weeks. The inherent costs had also risen, what with the need for extended storage hire, and meters being installed for all the utilities. Games Workshop terminated my contract of employment at the start of December due to trumped up charges and I'm still going through the process of claiming wrongful dismissal and the settlement thereof. 

As such, both of us had plans of where we wanted to go in our lives, and how we would achieve that. Both of us had those plans blown out of the water by HMS Life and her bullshit torpedoes. 

I'm certainly not complaining. Once again, as is becoming a running theme in these blogs and my ongoing relationship with Morgan, we are about to embark upon another fantastic adventure. I'm relocating to the absolute opposite end of the country to a town I don't know, where the people talk funny (though I am informed that they now have electricity, indoor plumbing and heating!). I am terrified, but I am even more excited. 

This is a brand new start, a complete slate-clean and a whole new world of inspiration both for my writing and my life ahead. It's the start of the story of Morgan and Myself. 

I'm going to live life to the fullest, experience everything I can and make sure that Morgan and I are the happiest we can be. 

You know what? I'm not planning anything from here onwards.