Out of the blue, my son in law announced he had an interview for a new job. I was delighted. I know how much he hates his job. I was a little stunned to find its on the Isle of Man. I have nothing against the Isle of Man. In truth, I have never been there. he assured me there was no chance of him getting this job. He has, however, been shortlisted and has a final interview next week. My daughter is distraught. She does not want to move there. She, also, has never been.
I have been doing a lot of research. And by that I mean I have googled everything I can think of that is important. You see when my daughter was on the phone, in tears, I casually said “If you end up moving there I will come too!” After all there was no chance of him getting the job. But you see HE HAS BEEN SHORTLISTED! Once again, nothing against the Isle of Man. My research reveals it is beautiful.
The beaches look amazing.
The houses are lovely and cheap.
There is internet there.
There is a Tesco and an Asda.
Regular planes fly into London City Airport for visits to relatives and friends.
Its several hundred miles away from relatives I don’t like.
I would have to leave my job.
I can, at last, write my novel. All about relocating to the Isle of Man
Its the perfect place to retire to. If she goes, in all honesty, I will probably go too.
But then I look round this house. I am not attached to it, I hate this house. But I think, we have so much stuff! How will I get the cats there? Should we take the cars? Should I get a job? Can I get a job? (you need a work permit). I already have sleepless nights.
He hasn’t even got the job yet.