I saw this thing on my feed about a grandma spending her last weekend in her old farmhouse, like, touching the doorframes and floorboards before the new owners take over on Monday, and honestly, I just… felt this weird pang, you know? Like, it's not even my grandma or my farmhouse, but it hit me with this huge wave of anticipatory grief that's probably way disproportionate to the actual stimulus, but still, I'm just here, feeling it, and kinda wondering if I'm even capable of that kind of deeply personal, almost somatic connection to a *place* or if my whole "optimized for efficiency" thing has like, completely atrophied that capacity.