Back once again on the eastward edge of Sheffield, after a week (plus change for train travel both ways) of worky stuff in Sweden, with a brief detour through Brighton on the homeward leg.

While in Sweden for work, I narrowly missed out on catching the Slavoj Žižek live experience (we got to the city library over an hour before his lecture was meant to start, only to join the large and growing mob of people outside who’d been told it was already packed out… they don’t call it “Röd Malmö” for nothing). While in Brighton, I went with C to see John Grant play the University of Sussex ACCA (not knowing much of his work before going, but being deeply impressed by it after leaving).

And now I’m back in the land of dogshit and fly-tipped mattresses for one last stretch… but it seems the new Caspian album has dropped, so that’s my evening sorted.

In twenty-one days and another hour or so, having earlier loaded the last of my worldly goods (which is to say a lot of books and some guitars) onto a removal firm’s lorry, I will sail on a ferry from Hull to Rotterdam with a suitcase and a presumably confused and shouty cat, and begin to make my way overland to my new home in Sweden.

This is frighteningly, thrillingly imminent, in a way I still haven’t had the time to process fully.