One more week to go and I’ll be entering a new phase of anna-existence. The type that doesn’t involve hitting the rails lines into town, the one that doesn’t involve a brisk walk up the steep parliament station escalators, the one that doesn’t include the dear smiling face of my friend that sells me the Big Issue for $4 a bargain-made pop. Goodbye to my long-awaited and very pleasant early morning coffee and the wet roads and the thinking time.

Seasons are good.