Although the exact date hasn’t yet been confirmed (to the best of my knowledge), we know that Jodie Whittaker’s final episode as the Doctor, one billed as a “centenary special” as part of the celebrations to honor a hundred years of the BBC, will air some time in October. Presumably she will regenerate at the end, or at least begin the process (maybe we’ll get that long-since-filmed sequence next year instead, at the official beginning of Ncuti Gatwa’s tenure), but we don’t even know that for sure.

What we do know is that in a matter of weeks, Whittaker will be gone, and fandom will be awaiting the reign of a new Doctor. (Although it’s probably both a bit on-the-nose and Too Soon™, saying “The Queen is dead; long live the King” here does seem to fit…) And I already miss her.

It’s strange the way human brains work. We have this amazing capacity to anticipate the future, which can be a fantastic advantage. But it can be problematic, too, because sometimes we spend far too much time either looking forward to or dreading things to come. And that’s exactly where I’m at in my current Doctor Who mindset.