It's been over a week since I first landed in American soil- 9 days to be exact- and I still haven't found a way to sum up just how strange I've been feeling. It all started when I had to pay for a single dose of Dayquil with a handful of coins and I couldn't remember the difference between a nickel and a dime. I spent a good minute or two trying to sort out all these irrational, worthless coins that I barely recognized, something I hadn't thought would be so confusing but that was. It all sort of just hit me from there. I wrote a really poetic analogy the other day of how it was like a dull force shooting straight at me and striking me in slow-motion, something I do a lot when I'm too overwhelmed to actually face the situation I'm in. I guess you could say I turn to metaphors when some turn to alcohol. Ahem. Anyways. It's weird being home. It's even weirder being home as an entirely different person. I feel so torn and confused and fuzzy. I ought to start making giant lists, but even that seems a task far too daunting for me.
Quite honestly, it's not even that I wish I was back in Spain. I do miss it and my friends and my family there, but I'm glad I'm in Bend. I'm just not so glad that I have to make this giant transition when everyone around me seems to think that I should be sliding back into the position I left.
Thus ends the fabulous year abroad adventure.
