...must come to an end.
I'm typing this, surrounded by mayhem, madness and the detritus of my life.
Tonight I must switch of the Mac, for tomorrow the men arrive with their boxes and muscles to move me 400 kilometres north, to Paris.
I have this feeling that I could have done so much more with my time here in Lyon if only I hadn't ended up spending the last two years on planes, trains and in hotel rooms.
I hate 'if only' but I wonder about the friends I never made (I made a few, but not enough) and the dates I never went on (ditto).
I know that Paris is a whole new beginning - a different job in a different set-up. I know it is a great opportunity to get some normality back into my life.
But I worry that, once I stop travelling so much, life will find me. That I'll have to get me a life. I'll have to actually get out there and search one out. Track one down.
Anyone got any suggestions? I'm scared.