Anyone else might have been struck by the sudden feeling of only having "one week of freedom" left; indeed, Sacha had witnessed such an incident herself when Kate had been offered her job in the Department of Defence, back before Sacha had even thought about leaving Canberra. That had taken them all by surprise: Sacha, Kate, and their parents: Kate had never really seemed like the kind of person who would readily go into the public service, even less into Defence, and probably realising this herself Kate had spent the days before becoming a full-time Commonwealth employee running around town, having coffees and drinks with friends at all hours of the day and night, generally enjoying the prospect of having abundant free time before being subsumed by the rigours of office-hours (such as they were in the public service).

Sacha, by contrast, didn't feel compelled to do any such thing, even though she assumed that her soon-to-be working-hours would be much more restrictive than was generally the case in the public service. For one thing, it just wasn't her style: it was undignified; and besides, Sacha was of the firm impression that if something had to be right now then it probably wasn't worth doing at all.

Secondly, she'd had enough free-time this year. She was sick of it. She'd long since run out of things to do with it all: reading in the park was lovely, but you couldn't do it all day, every day, and besides - you were bound to be interrupted sooner or later by somebody blowing leaves, or spraying weeds, or chastising (or ignoring) their children. No, it would definitely be good for her to have something to occupy her hours. Something that paid.

In a way, she felt like she'd had to put a slew of plans on hold. She didn't like to call them "dreams", that was unnecessarily grandiose, but definitely plans: going overseas again, for one; looking for a new place to live (again: in perpetually vacillating between staying and going, she'd once more for the time being settled for safer, cheaper option of staying) - hell, even buying a proper bookshelf. And more books: always more books. All these things she'd soon be able to start doing! Despite the sudden restrictions on her time that would soon be in place, she felt like she'd soon be able to start really living again. For some people that might have meant hanging out with friends, or similar social activities; for Sacha, it meant simply being able to do what she felt like doing, when she felt like doing it. She knew full well that money wasn't everything, but she wasn't so naïve that she couldn't recognise that money gave a person a hell of a lot more freedom than she would otherwise have.

Freedom, among other things, to buy new clothes. Sacha wasn't particularly fussy bout how she looked, but when clothing started to develop holes it was nice to be able to afford to replace it; and lately many items of clothing in her wardrobe had been developing holes simultaneously. Which was typical, she thought. Well, she told herself, it's not actually like you couldn't afford to replace them: you still have several thousand dollars in your bank account. Other people are far less careful than you with their money. Other people live off credit, god knows how. Yes, she admitted, but not me.

And that's when it hit her: she was about to start earning money. For so long she'd been imagining what it would be like to see some credit in her monthly bank statements instead of just debit - and now it was about to happen. The transformation she felt in her body was incredible: her neck straightened, her brow relaxed, her shoulders stopped hunching. A weight had been lifted.