It seems I've missed a week. There were evidently costumes. I suppose I should be grateful for small favors.
Though the management has given me a new wardrobe. The gun is unsettling but the fedora is oddly pleasing. I appear to be some sort of 1920's law enforcement officer. The view outside seems to confirm the era.
I feel as though I've been unconscious for a very long time. Longer than a week.
It is disturbing how comfortable this chaotic dimensional prison has become.