Burnt fish is not a nice smell

First of all I'd like to blame Marco for the fact that I am writing this in a haze of salmon smoke as his many bloggings over the weekend averted my attention from the fact that there was a strong smell of burnt fish wafting up the stairs and I should have taken it from the oven.

Things are going well on the Devon front, we had promising interviews with Marsh in Exeter yesterday with the view to getting jobs as soon as we get down there. The cottage is still being referenced and the letting agents are being arses, which is no suprise but I'm still confident we will get it.

I have been told by NU that I never have to go back as they will pay me up until 3rd June even though I am only signed off until 25th so I am done with that insidious pile of corporate crap for ever.

I met up with an old friend last night which was really nice as I don't see her as often as I would like, there were tears as well when I told her we were leaving soon which felt weird as we have been so bogged down in the practicalities of sorting out the move that the emotional side hasn't really featured as yet. I'm sure when the time comes I will be bawling my eyes out as I am going to miss our friends so much.

I'm not sure how to play things either as we will be having a leaving party a week before we go, do you leave it at that and say goodbye or should I have a few close friends over in the week for a meal to properly say goodbye. I don't know the protocol of these things having never left anywhere properly before, all I do know is that time is running out for me in Norwich and there is so much I want to do but can't figure out how to fit it in.