Post Ninety-Nine: Ch Ch Changin'.

In the wonderous words of Mr David Bowie, it's time to turn and face the strain (Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes).

I'm leaving my cosy, paper crane hostel of a mortuary for a bigger, bolder and bustling mortuary situated in my employers main operations building. It's only about 20 minutes away, but to me it feels like I'm leaving Kansas in the quest to conquer Oz. There is no place like home, but I need to get my head around the emerald city o' corpses.

I wouldn't leave if I could stay, but this bigger mortuary needs some serious love and attention to get it up to scratch. Sometimes it's the busiest places that are overlooked and it's my new job to make sure that the staff, the environment AND the deceased are comfortable, safe and managed.

I'm quepping balls. I'm going from a solo mission to a mega conglomeration of staff. I'm used to listening to whatever I want, singing full gusto without any feedback. Wearing whatever I want, with no one to see that I haven't tweezed my eyebrows in a month. I have no idea how I'm going to fare around people that may judge me for the oddball professional that I am....

At least there's a constant. There will be blood, sweat and maybe tears. Stay tuned.

Peace.