this morning, my apartment felt alien.
of course, i knew where i was. it was pitch-dark, but i knew the mess in the living room that i have to clean. i knew the clutter cart in the hallway...which i bumped into, but only because i was carrying two bulky bags. i knew my room, my bed, the fact that it looks like a tornado blew through it while i was away, and exactly what debris it left strewn about.
still, it felt alien.
chicago even felt alien, as i rolled along the streets in the bus, and later the taxicab. it was too foggy to see the skyline, all i could see were the closest buildings, the manufacturing plants and warehouses and shops.
i've never felt that before, even after being away for weeks, for entire summers, for years between visits to relatives as a child. i was only gone six days. maybe it was the disorientation of 2:40 am, of my bus getting in to the station an hour and twenty-three minutes late. still, i've gotten in later, and not felt this strange. i've slept a few hours, and now i feel a little better, although it's not back to normal yet.
hopefully i'll figure this out soon, and my home will feel a little less alien.