I handed my notice in at work today.
I will leave my job on the tenth of June. No more will I shine a light through a window for a living. No more will I sit in a room with no windows, hearing only the incessant clatter of soon-to-be-obsolete machinery. I'm going out to face the real world.
This decision has been brought about by several factors, namely the impending projection shake-up which will see us replaced with robotronic light-shiners, and my rapidly approaching thirtieth birthday. When the digital changeover hits, I will have the choice of staying with the company and jockeying popcorn or managing shifts (both of which strike me as hellishly unsuitable for my temperament) or leaving anyway. So there is the "jump before being pushed" motivation.
Then there is the fact that I turn twenty-nine next month and have very little to show for my life so far. I've been a projectionist for nearly five years, and think it's time for a change.
So, I'm off to London to seek my fortune. I hear the streets are paved with gold and they make you Mayor if you bring a cat or something.
What does this mean for the future of The Intermittent Sprocket? I don't know. You may see some changes in the coming weeks. I might start writing about wider topics as my access to movies dries up, maybe TV or music or books or crisps or navel lint will become more prominent features. I don't know.
Everyone's flagging down the reboot bandwagon at the moment, so maybe it's time for The Intermittent Sprocket 2.0?
The blog will continue as is until at least the tenth of June, but after that, who knows?
For now, here's some puppets and TV's Kevin Bishop pretending to sing a song: