dear internet,

i've been in introductory classes for a week and am experiencing my life as layer upon layer of unreality—the fact of being in an environment that's not my childhood bedroom, the fact of being around so many people, the fact of being in a classroom again but for real, not just at a conference where i overcaffeinate and my notes crumble away at the bottom of whatever not-tote bag i had to take with me because it was a formal event. at some point it will hit me that i am an actual student and what we discuss in class has stakes and requires follow-up and work on my part but for now i'm still thinking of things like how the professors probably can't tell if we caught their references or smiled at their jokes because we have our masks on. today i was reading a pdf for class and kept catching myself wanting to make editorial mark-ups (three indeeds in two paragraphs, 'impacted on' as a verb, and a truly horrible line break at '[w]/hilst'! in a cambridge companion!)—before realising that i was here to pay attention to the actual content. which, thankfully, i (mostly) understood. 

yesterday my flatmate told me that münster is known for how put-together its people are, and that, for example, she would never dream of going to our closest supermarket without at least putting on some mascara. reader, two days ago, i went there in my pajamas.

love,
t