Now I have to hope to the god that is part of my new official state religion (do I need to have the local vicar over for tea when I move?) that someone over there hires me soon. Amazingly, people want to interview me.
The goal is to get the fuck out of America with my daughter before Trump is inaugurated. No specific plan of where to move, just wherever I get a job. We will move to the Falklands if we have to.
It feels so close now.
After far too many years of Tory misrule, it definitely feels like the situation is turning around. Although the Labour manifesto was pretty weak sauce and their first 100 days were rocky, the government are starting to do interesting things (like renationalisation and devolution) that makes me start to feel hopeful again.