4th April 2006, 15:24.
The faithful desk in Ashdown House. Slightly clearer now that I’ve spent an hour procrastinating and tidying it up.

With 50 working days to go before I leave this place and fly out to New Zealand, how am I feeling?
In a word mixed. In a few more – Scared. Confused. Excited. Expectant. Bored. Unsure. Doubting.

I’m bored of where I am now, the subject is interesting, but I’m feeling a little worn out and lacking in motivation. It feels like it’s time to move on, to experience something new and to explore what I want to do and where I want to be.

But it still feels quite risky to do that – I’m leaving career momentum, opportunity and certainty behind. It’s only for a few months, but I guess I’m scared I’ll regret it, that I’ll have handicapped my potential or my future by this.

As a result or possibly contributing separately, I’m beginning to feel unsure about this and whether it really is something that I really want to do. I’m not in the right physical shape at the moment and I’m not particularly driven to get myself back into shape. I’m not sure if I can afford it or whether there’s something else I would rather spend that money on. I’m worried about what it will mean for my relationship. I’m worried that it won’t be this amazing life-changing experience – that’ll it’ll just be a few months dossing about and then I’ll come back, maybe a bit fitter, a bit better at snowboarding, but essentially no different. I’m scared that I’ll go on this journey and find it’s a dead end, so then I have to retrace my steps and pick up my life from where I left it. Maybe I’m just trying to prove a point and rebelling for the sake of it.

Basically, I feel like I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore and I’m beginning to doubt my instincts.

But then again, isn’t that why I’m doing this?