Most of what I’ve been experiencing in Chicago thus far has been totally different from home.
1) At home, I didn’t have a refrigerator in my room. Here, everything I own – in Chicago – is in this room.
2) Home has normal food, food made with real ingredients that I can recognize. Like butter. There is a shortage of butter in our cafeteria.
3) There is incessant noise in the city: trucks going by, people yelling, wind… At home, the only noises that bother my neighborhood are when my neighbors set off firecrackers.
So, when I woke up this morning with chilly air blowing in my window and the sun shining brightly just like it does on the most beautiful autumn mornings in Minnesota, I got a little homesick. Just a little bit. It was a beautiful kind of homesickness.
It was the kind of morning where the air is cool and the breeze is cool, and you can practically smell real fall weather on its way, but the sun shines like it’s summer. And the birds are still chirping. And people are still wearing shorts and flip-flops.
It’s like the weather can’t make up her mind between summer and autumn, so she just compromises for a combination of both.
And sometimes it makes me miss the other familiarity that usually comes with this weather. But then I go get Starbucks and walk to the grocery store and write an essay. And it all gets better.