Well, that was a lazy exit. To be honest, it wasn't much of an exit at all.
When I was preparing to leave San Francisco six months ago, it was a "hurry up, get this shit done, everything must go, say a million tearful good-byes, holy shit I'm really leaving" sort of situation.
When I was preparing to leave New Orleans these past few weeks, it was more of a "it's a nice day, let's go to the pool, I can just leave this stuff here, I'll miss you, but I'll be back in two and a half weeks and then again in late September so I'll see you soon" sort of situation.
It doesn't even really feel like I've left. I'm just taking an extended vacation, or working offshore for a while, as Sweetheart likes to say. My friends aren't all that concerned, they know I can never stay gone very long. Besides, half of them are storing shit for me, knowing full well that they'll be getting their closet space back sooner rather than later.
So yeah, no problem, no big deal. See you soon. Down by the river, or maybe poolside, mimosa in hand, like I never missed a day.