Yesterday, heading up to SF for dinner with jaylake, zellandyne, and a variety of other people whose LJ usernames I did not catch because they were all new acquaintances, I had an odd bit of cognitive dissonance.
Drive to Millbrae, park, wait around on the platform. Get on Caltrain. Sit down, pop in headphones, stare out the window —
And I’m in England.
Because, according to my subconscious, England is the only place in the world with trains. Or at least the only place I ever ride them. Ergo, if I am on a train, I must be in England.
My subconscious thought this was perfectly acceptable logic.