Something tells me we're not in Texas anymore...

It's been 3 days since I left Texas but I am still in denial. I miss eating BBQ and Mexican food. I miss having every minute of my life--what to eat, where to go, what to do--determined by group consensus. I miss spending every waking moment with other humans. On the plane to Boston, I was basking in the afterglow of Texas, reflecting on my experience the past month. No homework or responsbilites, sigh. I wonder when I'll be able to do that again. On the cab ride home from the airport, I realized for the first time how much of the I-93 freeway runs underneath the city. Imagine, miles of freeway running underneath a city. I never knew! I barely finished that thought when the cab driver broke suddenly to avoid a collision with another car on the road. The two drivers honked aggressively and exchanged vicious stares before driving off. At that moment, I awoke from my daydream and realized that I wasn't in Texas anymore. I came back to a dirty snow-covered city, and a quiet apartment with a missing roommate. It makes me want to take another vacation...