I am doing a thing that I used to do. Waking up in the middle of the night for no apparent reason. It reminds me of being 3, 4, waking up thirsty and staring at the octopi shadows on the wall, calling for my parents; being 11, 15, waking up anxious and looking out at the oranging sky, counting down the hours or minutes in the cold silence until school; waking up 20, 21, ready to frantically pour concepts over pages. The tenor of this waking is different. It is a cycle, a familiarity, but I won't say which. I can date it October 2008 with confidence. It will leave me a strung line at work but today is just a Halloween decorations day so maybe that's alright. The warning bells in my head say hypomania.

***

This world where I am living now operates under different rules and vocabulary. You keep your head down when you're walking but you respond with warmth and extended banter to those you encounter in customer service. You say "rad," and "hella," and "right on." You do not show shame at your North Face because everyone has a North Face. Zoe and I talk about these and other ways in which we feel 3000 miles away, lost in an emerald dream world, in an abandoned amusement park below the Space Needle too early in the morning.