I am not going on a man hunt.

Suitcase packing has to be up there with box packing and mud shovelling as one of the world’s most tedious jobs. The only thing that somewhat redeems suitcase packing in this mix is that there is a cool destination at the other end. For me – destination LONDON. Departure 7:15am tomorrow.

Very excited. Even with Lizzie emailing me this morning to tell me how god darn cold it is over there at the moment. I have my new coat, gloves and beanie at the ready. I am sure I have forgotten something, but at this stage, it really is only God who knows what that is. I have my laptop and a change of underwear - essentials are therefore sorted.

Now, there is just one minor thing I want to do before I leave – and that is set the record straight. I am not going on a man hunt. While the number one comment I have had from friends and family over the last few weeks has related to Colin Firth and Love Actually, following in very close second place is a comment along the lines of “OOhhhh, I just KNOW you’re going to meet someone overseas! Another writer…or someone from Scotland…or a hot Portuguese surfer…”.

I just want to gently point out that I intend to spend a lot of time writing. Indoors. By myself. Not out fraternising with the opposite sex. Not that I’m saying it won’t happen, I just want to make sure expectations are not getting out of hand. After all, I have heard this same comment before when I

a)      Moved to Canada (apparently I was destined to meet a Mountie).

b)      Went skiing in France (French ski instructor was on the cards there).

c)       Started working for an Engineering firm (based on male to female ratio alone, nothing to do with the fact that anyone actually wanted me to hook up with an Engineer).

While dating a hot Portuguese surfer would certainly be useful research for my book, unfortunately someone already beat me to the concept of Around the World in 80 Dates. I don’t intend to replicate it.

What I do intend to do, however, is not gain 13kg, which is the amount of weight I put on last time I lived in the UK. That time, however, I was pulling pints in a pub and serving up hot chips and banoffee pie to hungry locals in Surrey…obviously with a little serving to myself on the side. I tend to stay far away from the banoffee pie this time.

Besides, I don’t need anything else to make my stomach churn – it is already getting a good work out just thinking about submitting my first three chapters to Maggie Alderson – since I WON the manuscript assessment! Bloody exciting but also more nerve wracking than jumping out of a plane…while doing a job interview….and speaking in front of 10,000 people. All at the same time.

So my next blog will be from London – sent from somewhere in the vicinity of Barbican where I will be staying with the lovely Lizzie and Paul. Hard to imagine that it is actually happening, as I sit here at my desk in Ebb Court, sipping a cup of Earl Grey tea. At 10:15pm on a Saturday night. See, I am like a real author already – a reclusive, tea sipping, penniless, cat-owning introvert.  Well, tea sipping and cat-owning anyway. And I’m working quite hard on the penniless bit too.