I realized today that I spend way too much time wondering where I am. Not because I’m getting old and senile, even though I’m wondering about the senile part. More because so many places look like so many other places, and some days it feels like I’ve been to them all.

Scratching My Head

I left the commissary the other day, and couldn’t find my car at first. I know I parked my Impala on THIS ROW! But, that wasn’t the car I was looking for; that one was sold almost ten years ago! Stepping out of that commissary I was transported to another base I had been stationed at, and that took me right back to the car I was driving there. Wait, what state am I in?

My wife and I visited her parents last week. When we were leaving, my heart sank because of the six-hour drive home coming up. Wait, we’re only thirty miles down the road now. What state am I in? One BX looks like another, Walmart looks the same everywhere, and bases are bases: when you’ve seen one you’ve seen them all. What base is this, again?

It doesn’t help that I have transited so many more places than I have actually been to. Six, eight, ten hours on the ground for a layover, and it really does start to blend together. Have I been here before? Oh, yeah, I remember that restaurant on the corner. No, wait, was it that one? Nope, that was in Colorado, remember? But wait, aren’t I IN Colorado? Crap, what state am I in? It gets confusing.