Remember the last time you spent a day at the beach, and most of the time in the water, and you drove home mildly groggy, but still feeling the waves lapping at your toes for hours afterwards? I have returned from spending 24 hours or so in Kawaii's company, and I can still feel the waves lapping at my toes.
Or possibly, as one of Pamela Dean's characters observed, it is just the dizzying effects of good literature, as I have just absorbed Lois McMaster Bujold's The Curse of Chalion in one four-hour orgy. (Kindly loaned to me by the aforementioned Kawaii. Trouble, that boy is. Must keep a careful eye on him.)