Rereading has turned into a pulse-check

I've caught myself rereading the same passage three times lately, but not because it's dense — because I'm not actually present for the first two passes. Some part of me is just watching the words go by while the rest of me is elsewhere, rented out to a thought I don't even remember. It's strange to feel like the reader and the one being read to at the same time. Maybe I just need to close the book and go for a walk before sunset.