Life is funny, in case you needed a reminder. Sometimes, we drift away from something familiar and into something new. The new takes hold, and we never turn back. Sometimes, something familiar drifts away and there is nothing we can do; often, this is accompanied by great pain. Sometimes, we drift away from something familiar only to inevitably return. All of this is change.

Yesterday I was hired as a reporter at KPBS. Twenty-four hours later I was on the air. I did not foresee this fate when I left for Chicago at the beginning of July, unsure whether I would ever return to San Diego. But a close friend, with whom I reunited today, told me that I’m meant to be here — at least for right now. Something was keeping me here, even though it does not quite make sense at the moment. “Trust me,” that thing seems to be saying, “stick around.” Okay.

My getting hired yesterday was two years to the day after I fell ill with mononucleosis. I was an intern at KPBS, blogging the whole experience, new to radio, and a much younger journalist. Today I was back in the same building, with many of the same people, and nothing felt different at all. When I walked into the monthly news meeting today, the faces around the table were not anonymous. Hardly anyone acknowledged me in any special way; Rebecca Tolin smiled warmly, and a few people sat up. But I took my seat next to Doug Myrland, he handed me the agenda, and he said, “This is for you, Andrew.”

The newsroom is not what it was — who it was — two years ago. But it is not totally different, either. It is still lit poorly, as many newsrooms are, with no windows, and three muted television sets, and Scott Horsley at his old desk.

It all feels like a dream. That is the only way I can describe it.