6.00am

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I’m a last-minute kind of person.

I’m also the person who will figure out anything else to do other than what she needs to do, which is why I’m still up at 6.00am packing. And writing this.

I’m cleaning the past year of my life out of closets, drawers, desks, and boxes shoved under the bed. Empty hangers rattle against each other, yelling about things I’ve forgotten, and the now bare walls feel like they’re closing in on me. One truth hits hard as the sun threatens to come up over my balcony in about an hour or so: this is my last morning in College Station.

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