I've had this 1998 Honda Civic since 2008, when I got it to replace the 1988 Accord I'd gotten in 1997. Like the Accord, I donated the Civic, this time to Habitat for Humanity; they'll have the car scrapped, salvaged for useful metal, or repaired and sold, whatever makes them the most money.
Today was donation day, as I'd arranged Tueaday. A Pick-N-Pull tow truck was scheduled for between noon and 4:00; luckily I was ready earlier, as the driver called me at 10:30 a.m. I had enough time to get to the car, take off the Club that I've used for the past year to secure it, start the car to be sure it still ran, and write down the final (well, final to me) odometer reading when the truck showed up. I ran the Club up to the table on the house's front porch, then got back and spoke with the two-man team picking up the car. I signed paperwork, gave them the keys, and watched them head off with that black, dented, been-through-a-lot Civic, its Southeast Barber Conpany bumper sticker ("I Will Cut You!") shrinking in the distance.
Then minutes later, I headed for the bus because the tow truck driver had called to say I'd forgotten to fill out two of the lines in the paperwork. Luckily the tow place he'd taken the paperwork to was a manageable distance from where I live, and I signed what needed signing. Then I was home by noon, the original time I'd expected the tow truck to arrive.
To keep from surprising myself, the way I got surprised a year ago when I woke up and looked out the window and found that my car'd been stolen, I did something I decided a few days ago would probably be a good idea: I wrote myself a note.
It was picked up Saturday
I could totally imagine myself waking up tomorrow, looking out the window and not seeing my car and possibly freaking out again, even just briefly, so reminding myself that this time this is my doing...well, that helps my equilibrium.
Next is letting my insurance company and DMV know about the change.