Sat on a plane for 12 hours.
Watched 5 consecutive movies and ate stale bread with microwaved pasta.
Reunited with old familiar faces.
Spoon-napped with my dog.
Tried to unpack.
Did not unpack.
Saw the sunrise, kind of.
Missed Paris.
Mixed French with English & vice versa.
Slept a total of maybe 5 hours.
Miscounted the days and the hours and the minutes.
I don't feel like I'm alive right now, I feel like I'm in some alternate universe where nothing ever happened and I'm adjusting to nothing. Is this what disorientation feels like?
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