The Mad Hatter and March Hare Have Agreed to Switch Places

In the past 24 hours I’ve had two different experiences that can only be described as eerie. I feel like Alice in Wonderland sometimes.

The first happened yesterday morning. Anyone who knows anything about me will tell you that I am NOT a morning person. In fact there was a period in my life when I obstinately believed exposure to pre-noon sunlight might result in my transformation into dust. The immutable laws of physics proved otherwise, but it wasn’t due to lack of sincere belief. All that to say this: I’m pretty out of it in the morning.

So yesterday I walked into the LBJ Teaching Theatre (at the student center) around 9am and began to unpack my guitar and music, only to look up and realize that I was surrounded by about 100 Asians. They were everywhere, laughing, talking, and holding Bibles. Where was I? What’s going on? How long had I been sleeping? It turns out that they had rented the space to conduct a (Christian) church service, and Three Rivers had temporarily moved downstairs. But the thing is I had walked into the room, unloaded my stuff, and was in the middle of tuning my guitar before I realized I had walked in on a Chinese church service.

Campus is empty. I’m tying from a computer lab where I once had to wait 10 minutes to get a seat. There is not a single person in here. A second ago I yelled out “Enchiladas” in Dan’s ill-advised falsetto voice just to make sure no one was hiding (because that would surely bring them out) but sure enough, deserted. I wonder if this is what it would be like to be a lone survivor of a nuclear attack. One step outside into the sweltering Texas sun is nearly enough to convince me this might be the case.

I miss everyone so much. I never thought I’d miss frantically hiding behind bushes when I saw Marisa approaching. Never thought I’d miss Dan saluting me as I walked off for class. Never thought I’d miss the seemingly endless supply of surprise birthday parties. And I certainly never thought I’d miss free lunch (if you can call it that) on Wednesdays.

But now all that is gone, and the campus is infested with giddy high school kids registering for the fall semester. They are filled with such illusion and optimism, so far away from my state which can only be described as jaded.

So here I am, feeling like Alice must have when the Mad Hatter and March Hare agreed it was time to change chairs. My existence has become rather disconcerting.