The fog of uprooting one’s life and relocating to a foreign city has kept me engaged since my departure. Already, I have met some wonderful people while I navigate a new life. The surreal nature of the month has only been underscored by having to live in a hotel until I made more permanent living arrangements.
Psychologically, we view hotels as temporary. You go to a hotel, stay a few days—maybe longer—then you go home. But when I checked out of my hotel yesterday to move into a new apartment, I was denied the return trip home. And two weeks after my arrival, I’m struck by how incredibly homesick I have suddenly become.
