I'm off to see Arsenal play at Highbury. This is significant because not only is it Arsenal's last season at the spiritual ground (they are movnig to a new stadium next season), but this is probably the last time I'll get to see them play. As many of you already know I am moving to Switzerland, so the closest I'll get to Premiership footie is on the telly. Those visits I've had to Highbury have been fantastic, the cold crisp air, the sharp floodlights beaming down on the green green grass of the pitch, making it all look perfectly manicured like some magnificent legoland cathedral in which we worship to Gods of football, the chanting of the 38,000 people in the stadium, the thoroughbred players thundering up and down in a battle that only ends in them falling over clutching some part of their body, wincing like great big jessies, calling out for their Mammas because the £100,000 they make a week doesn't compensate for the fact that it's too cold and they'd rather be tucked up in a blanket on the bench. They are more like prancing men-in-tights than hardened footballers these days, more like prima ballerinas than gladiators. But I love the atmosphere all the same. Arsenal are playing Manchester City who are my adopted team, my second favorit child of you will, only because they're not Manchester United. So I'm getting to see my two best teams battle it out while I enjoy a 3 course buffet with chocolates and coffee in the VIP section of the grounds, after the game we'll enjoy post game drinks.

I mentioned that I'm moving to Switzerland. I'm doing it for love, but it goes beyond that. On a professional level I've managed to exceed my expectations, the goals I set for myself three years ago when I returned to forge a career in IT in Europe or the UK (fog in chanel, continent cut off). I've landed a job in Zurich that is a big step up for me and is going to be a most welcome challenge. It will, I expect, be the most significant job on my CV and will put me in good stead to lead the professional life I have in mind until such time that I either devour it or burn out, drop out and find myself knee-deep in Laphroaig writing, or as a mature student studying the classics in some strange European university. Whatever it is that is set to happen, I feel confident and sure that I am doing the right thing, almost as if I haven't even had to consider it, it all just happened. My cosmic bank account is still clinking and jingling with the sound of karmaic dollars.