Return

It was raining when I got back to DC, just as it was when I left. My mother picked me up from the airport, treated me to a burrito and drove me to Takoma Park. My roommates had failed to take down the Christmas wreath off the front door and everything in the family room was eerily in the same place. It was all exactly as I had left it a month ago, as if I had been in Narnia.

I dumped my pack and collapsed upstairs, but I kept waking up in the middle of the night, first at eight, then at midnight and then at five. I kept dreaming of Ghanaian soccer and couldn’t get a Weezer album out of my head. Maybe it was the jetlag or maybe it was the Larium. I decided to go into work early since I was up. I grabbed a medium t-shirt that was usually snug and put it on. It was now loose.

Work was work. Our last report was still upstairs with the Inspector General and the entrance conference for our next review was still not scheduled. I had lunch with Staats and Tristin who reported that nothing had happened over the past month. Yup, it was all exactly as I had left.

My run after work went surprisingly well and I weighed myself afterwards. I lost fifteen pounds. How is that even possible? A half a pound every day?

I decided to grab some Chinese when I got home, so I went down the street and ordered some kung pao. I chowed down while watching Countdown, which left me with an enormous stomach ache. Apparently, this whole food thing is a shock to my body (unless it was Keith Oberman). I guess I should have gone with yams for dinner. At nine, I became massively sleepy and felt light-headed. I stumbled upstairs and passed out again. I kept waking up expecting to see blue walls. I need to get off this Larium.

I’m sure in a couple of days, I’ll be acclimated. Oddly, though, both physically and mentally, I miss Ghana. Who would have guessed?