I'm A Drifter and I know It Doesn't Do Me Any Good

It's that time of year again, finals coming to a close... The sounds of banging and swearing as your neighbors who live too close for comfort try to pack all their necessities for a journey home. As usual, I feel the need to stuff the entire contents of my tiny studio apartment into my car; I swear you'd think I was moving back home for good, with all the stuff I'm taking.

Shoes- Check
Clothes- Check
Movies- Check
Books- Check
Toiletries- Check
Purses- Check
Gloves and Scarves- Check
Hats- Check
Jewelry- Check



The refrigerator, if you can call it that, has been cleaned and its contents unceremoniously dumped into the rubbish-- waiting for me to make the trek to the dumpster.

So, I hope I haven't forgotten anything, like I usually do. The laundry is in a basket waiting to be done, and that is what I usually end up coming back for. No return trips for me.

Goodbye, first semester of senior year. It's been real and it's been fun. Okay, well that might be a lie, but for the most part...

It's time to go home and be reunited with my friends and family. Time to put on the cape and become a pharmician once again. Time to bake lots and lots of cookies. Time to frantically go last-minute Christmas shopping. Time to forget all the German I learned this past semester, so that I can freak out at said forgetfulness the beginning of next semester. Time to say goodbye, for now.

Goodbye Statesboro!