I've always known a lot of people. I'm not saying I'm popular, more I've been around—in the career sense—and met nice people worth keeping hold of after I've moved on from each job. This always means birthdays etc are big 50-plus people parties, sometimes in two locations (where I'm from, in Wiltshire and in London, where I know most people). So now, faced with 3 weeks back in the UK next month to catch up with family and friends, I'm having to plan this trip like a military operation. Thoughts of giving myself reasonable amounts of rest time to prevent burnout have long since gone out the window and somehow, despite my vow to only see the people who really matter, those 3 weeks in my Filofax are the biggest, multi-coloured, scribbled-out-then-written-over-again, circled, highlighted mess I've ever seen. And I like things neat!
To give you an idea, during this trip I have the wedding of a very dear friend in Wales, a baby god daughter to meet for the first time in Norfolk, an entire house worth of my worldly belongings to remove from a storage unit (and decide what to sell/chuck/store at Dad's/ship back to Oz), a big party in London, and quality time with my Dad, only sibling and other family to contend with. And that's before I see most of my friends. Phew!
All of this I am looking forward to immensely (apart from the dealing with my belongings part) but it is also instilling a kind of panic in me. Because even though I think I have enough days left to see all the people who matter, the realisation that I might only get to see each person once—twice at best—is already disappointing.
What I'm grateful for however is that I obviously have a lot of very special UK people in my life. And I already have a good few on this side of the globe as well. Can't say luckier than that...
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