It's time for you to leave, sir.
And so it is.
I had hoped to delay my retirement until I officially graduated, had been a writer for two full years, and/or had reached some arbitrary answer count milestone, but it's just too much for me now. It has been a long while since I've been able to fulfill this responsibility to my satisfaction. In the eloquent words of Bilbo Baggins, "I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread."
To my now former colleagues in the writership, it was a pleasure to know you. I can only hope to have added as much to your lives as each of you have added to mine. Maybe we can see each other again sometime when I'm back in Provo.
To you readers, thank you for your questions. My wish is that I could have been a net benefit to you as a writer, even though I'm sure I ruffled some feathers along the way.
I don't have a ring of power to blame for my problems, or any elf buddies that I can crash with until I feel better, but it's still time to say goodbye. That is, at least until Alumni Week.
Take care of yourselves,