I’m in my home town this weekend and I’m missing it badly. A visceral desire for a return to its pleasures and its Melbourne attributes. I’m here and I’m in the moment, loving the moment, missing the moments all the time, and not missing Brisbane at all right now. Oh, fickle me. How quickly I throw off the shackles of loyalty and adoptive responsibility for the preferences of childhood memories. Oh, what treachery. And I’m back in a fortnight, all too ready to plunge myself into the pleasures of Melbourne all too soon. Oh, I hate me sometimes.