A new life

I tossed and turned last night and couldn't sleep; this morning I struggled to run, only managing a kilometre before packing it in as a bad idea and hobbling home again. Sat on the sofa, wearing only my underpants, logging on to a work computer felt like less fun than before.

Running to the Tiger

I met a friend I hadn't seen since he moved to Beijing last year, and dallied too long over pizza in a restaurant at IFC, watching the rain pelt against the window. My friend, an old hand at last minute sprints to the airport, told me it would all be fine, but as we walked to the railway station I could feel little palpitations of fear clenching in my chest.

The pall of wedding bills

Today I felt jolly productive (as I typed a lot) then a bit of a jackanapes (as I went to the tailor to pick up my suit for the wedding, only to find I was a day early) and then finally I felt sort of athletic because I could run very fast on a treadmill.

Having achieved all these things before eight o'clock in the evening, I felt that I'd done enough for the day, but I was mistaken. After all, today was the day that we had to pay for the wedding venue. And the wedding food. And the wedding booze. And the wedding DJ.

I'm not complaining. I'm just a bit shellshocked, because never in my life have I maxed out a credit card. Well, maxed out two different credit cards, and now I'm staring at an enormous mound of debt that seems to be flying towards me at great speed, while I worry about whether my hero, Cash Flow Man, will arrive in time to save my bacon.

Perhaps I should just get the credit card company to up my credit limit. There wouldn't be anything wrong with that scheme, now would there?

While I spin around making the noises usually produced by a scalded cat, my fiancee seems to be quite relaxed. Relaxed to the point of laughing at me, while I froth at the mouth and wriggle. And to think, yesterday I thought all that was left to do was to pack.

Oh.

Actually, packing will be quite easy. We're going away for three weeks, so that's three pairs of underpants and two pairs of socks, plus a Motorhead t-shirt and a paperback novel about tigers. I know how to live.

If that doesn't stop her laughing at my financial hysteria, I'm not sure what will.

Not relaxing in Malaysia

Malaysia is a relaxed country, but this is a problem if you decide to leave in a hurry.  We got a taxi from Sentral at 1:40, which was possibly cutting it fine given our flight was at 4 from KL LCC, but we probably would have been less stressed if our taxi hadn't seemed to travel as slowly as possible, all the way there.