Returning the kings to their roots.

The life of an under qualified king is never simple is it?

I had finally done it, broken through the mould of being under qualified and had at last become a king. Well sort of... I had made it to the bottom of a ladder, ready and primed to slowly stumble my way up in a pair of fairly painful but beautiful heels.

I had finally achieved what I was meant to have achieved over 2 years ago when I could actually call myself a "graduate" without a little bit of shame. I had moved to London, and followed the usual London routine... I hate it, I love it, I hate it again, sod it, lets get drunk, love it... f*ck this place, no wait, its alright if you let yourself sink into its "charms".

I was in a fantastically glamorous and monotone routine. Yeah that sums it up perfectly.

Anyway, if you've been paying attention, you may have noticed the use of the past tense. Yes, alas, it truly is the past. It all had to come to an end. The company I have been working for, although doing well, has been forced to budget over the following months, which means saying a sad goodbye. Life of kings eh?

It has been exactly one year, eleven months and six days since my first "under qualified king" entry; the entry that described a life of the hopeful unemployed. One year, eleven months and six days and I'm back to where I started.

Its ok, I like to tell myself that it all happens for a reason. A king wouldn't be a king without the knocks and bruises would it? So back to the land of pajamas at noon, "job applicator" for a title and maybe a little bit of tea, biscuits and Pacman.

Kings!
Watch this space :)