It's probably the very last weekend I am working on the school stuff. This slightly cold sunny spring morning mixed with the odor of tobacco and the sound of Bowie, and the beams on sunlight warming my shoulders make me feel that I'm gonna miss this, and it takes me by surprise. The last seven years is suddenly a far memory, neither bitter nor sweet, and all I can feel now is only this nice slightly cold sunny spring day. I will drink to me tonight.