i can't decide if it's more jarring to make the transition from chicago to memphis to mississippi or the other way around. all i know is, when i climb those four flights of stairs to the echoing yowls of the pining vieve after a few days away, my 4-room box in its 4x2 mile world feels terribly small and not quite mine. as though i've stumbled into a boutique hotel decorated by my long lost twin.
upon re-entry, chicago is almost unbearably glamorous, what with the trains and the high heels and the lights and the cabs. even the vieve seems more fabulous than i remember, her hair smoothed soft as chenille.
for about a day after i get back, i will feel excessively grown-up. the queen of my perfectly pulled-together kingdom.
inevitably, this will not last. the next day will dawn and i will awake to a cat hairballing perilously close to my face and pack a lunch comprised of three apples and 1/4 of a cold chicken breast baked at least a week and a half before and anticipate a dinner of mini wheats and wine. with this, any illusion of glamor will be gone.
but there's something lovely and naive in those first moments back, that shock of wow. i live HERE. rather refreshing after the four days of thank God i don't still live here.