I woke up on Sunday morning for the final time in the family home in the Fair City.
It was a fitting achievement that I woke up with a hangover.
I felt like I was 17 years of age all over again.
As ever, a morning swim was the only solution.
I ventured out to the Keyworth Duck Pond [not really a duck pond] where I first learnt to swim.
It's my least favourite place to swim.
But a swim is a swim.
I managed 40 lengths, and then pondered a full frontal 'male shower' in the bloody awful mixed sex 'village' changing rooms.
I would have received a ban for life, and no doubt a place on some nonce register.
I walked back to the family home, and past the setting up of the Keyworth Turkey Trot event.
I was very tempted to pound the mean streets of South Notts for 13 miles. But I have some very odd body injuries right now.
A brief visit from my sister and young niece, and then Sunday was mainly about some long form writing.
I've got various end of year reviews to start thinking about.
There's no way I'm going to rush write these on 31 December.
I bashed out my own personal thoughts, and then started work on the Brixton Buzz end of year round up.
Blimey - we've been bloody busy.
SO many stories coming out of SW9 in the past 12 months.
It was tough trying to cut down the story count, and concentrate on what were the big stories.
They were ALL big stories.
A brief work shift, and then I took some final photos around the house whilst there was still some daylight.
We watched a bit of the Arsenal match, and then the Spurs match to follow.
My first Christmas dinner was gratefully received early evening, ahead of a train journey all the way back over to the estuary wilds.
I arrived back over there pretty knackered, and still slightly hungover.