A Valediction Forbidding Overpacking

I've lived for nearly twelve years in a fairly affluent community, with lush green drives and beautifully manicured lawns. Never in all my time living in Walnut Creek have I ever come across a sight like this, which greeted me as I drove out of my neighborhood this morning:

Can I get a collective WTF?

Turns out, some rowdy teenagers were driving at insane speeds late at night, hit a curb, and smashed straight into the grand old sign that has proudly announced the entrance my subdivision for so long. I'd like to see it as a sign (hah!) that it's time for me to go.

And time for me to go it is. My possessions have all been miraculously packed into five boxes, I've said goodbye to all my loved ones, and my driver's license has been surrendered—yes, you heard right.

Koala was sad to see a fellow denizen of my ridiculously messy bag go.

Since I will not be driving for the majority of the next four years, and since my super-high insurance cannot be cancelled unless I simply do not have a valid license, my mom thought it prudent that I give up my license so that she won't have to pay insane amounts of money to atone for my multiple crashes and traffic violation tickets. I got a temporary photo ID from the DMV today, which I will not post here because it is so terrifyingly unattractive. Ew.

But anyway, yes! My flight leaves at 2pm tomorrow—or today, really, given the time. It's been a surreal last day in Alpharetta; I've told so many people that I'm leaving, and yet it hasn't really sunk in. At all. I'm not the type to get emotional before the fact, I suppose? But rest assured that a month from now I'll be sobbing into my pillow from missing all the wonderful people I've left behind.

Goodbye, Alpharetta. You've been good to me, for the most part. I'll miss you more than I know.