Sometimes I wonder if the eight months from September to the end of April ever really happened. I don’t have much to show for it (materially) other than a few new subdirectories under the two folders marked ‘University’ and ‘Photographs’. (I can get lost in the latter.)

I went to the gym today for the first time since coming back home, and nothing had changed. Oh sure, there was a new guy at the desk, and the door to the locker room had a new knob, but it was pretty much the same story. My old driving instructor was still working there, sitting at the computer on a big pink ball. The same three old guys were talking in the locker room and the same couple muscle boys were strutting around in their wife beaters. As I stood there, it felt like it might have only been a couple days since I had last been.

This is one of the side effects of moving back and forth between two places every few months. Each time I arrive I think that I’ve changed so much, but before long the local routine sucks me in and I have a hard time remembering what living in the other place was like.