Hi ho, hi go it's off to work I go!
It's been eight years since I worked in an office, to the rhythm of a normal work day, to the ebbs and flows of commuter traffic and the juggle (okay, let's be honest, the clash) between family and full time employment.
Don't get me wrong, I've worked my arse off in this time, as a correspondent working from a laptop to multiple platforms in two time zones, as a full time Master's student for a year then as a freelancer battling to stay afloat, convinced every story might be my last. So, I'm no stranger to hard work, I'm not afraid of that, in fact I love it.
But as I headed off to my new office in Canary Wharf in London's City district (a forest of steel and glass, bankers and more bankers - oooh how I love Cockney rhyming slang...think about it) I felt this strange push-me-pull-you feeling between overwhelming gratitude that I've landed myself an amazing professional challenge (and a salary) at this time of total carnage in our profession and a teeny tiny melancholy ache for the little daily things I came to love so much and now trade for financial security: the daily dog walk, the park and its changing light and seasons, the forced down time, between assignments when the biggest challenge was learning how not to succumb to the terror that there'd never be another assignment and forcing myself to knit a pair of socks (and a fox head!).
And so the new adventure begins.....