I have noticed something peculiar. It has become impossible to fantasize. Sometimes, when walking between buildings at work, I'd wonder about winning the lotto or just being at the beach or someplace pleasant. None of that works, such thoughts arise but die a phantom's death.
It is not a sad feeling but one of being present. I mention because it was strong and apparent today. It was as if this new condition was introducing itself after a long nodding acquaintance as we passed by each other in the hallways of life.