Sweating the Small Things

So, it has been almost a month since I am back in the states, and the thing is: I don't really feel this huge jolt of culture shock that I was expecting. After weeks of preparing myself for the jolt of "re-entry", I must say I am a little disappointed. No big break downs, no onslaughts of unforeseen panic attacks, and no need for my brown paper bag that I so wisely tucked into my back pocket for those emergency hyperventilation moments.

What's wrong with me? At first, I thought it might be that I was running around like an idiot trying to do basic things like finding a place to live and getting a job worked out. And while I am happy to say that both have been accomplished, and that I even secured early enrollment to grad school, I am sad to say that after the chicken-dash-y-ness that was the first two weeks that I was back, no large cultural adjustment has yet to hit me over the head or put me out of commission for at least a good couple days.

Am I soul-less? Did my time in Panama really not mean anything? Is this feeling of eternal vacation in the States ever going to pass? Am I going to feel sad anytime soon? Did Dr Suess write a book about how I am going to steal Christmas this year? Do I have a heart?

Or was re-entry just overblown? I mean it could be that it was overstated to avoid any big catastrophes like breaking down when there are ten zillion type of baked beans to choose from.

One thing that has caught my attention has been all the small things. The Roads are huge. Cars stop and kindly wave you along your way as you utilize crosswalks. Said Crosswalks are visible and lights even tell you when its time to cross. Waiters say hi when you sit at a table. Police officers seem to do something.

And while all these things are apparently pleasant, I find myself asking "why doesn't that waiter just throw our food on the table, or slam the bill down in the middle of our conversation?" and "why are people so considerate?" Most importantly I ask "WHY IS EVERYTHING SO FAKE?"

So cultural adjustment, here I come. I will try to smile when random strangers say Hi, and I will try to get used to not having to check 70 bazillion times to cross the street without getting pulverized, and I will try not to let the little things freak me out. Oh, couldn't I just get depressed and get over it in a couple days? Why do all these little things keep drawing out my cultural adjustment?

Damn it. I just want to be depressed. I just want to go through all the re-entry that "normal people" go through. None of this small shit.