...like being seasick on dry land.

"Of course I can guess, of course I guessed the first time I saw you, what kind of state you are in. I've had some experience, and I don't mean it as a joke when I tell you it's like being seasick on dry land. It's a condition in which you can't remember the real names of things and so in a great hurry you fling temporary names at them. You do it as fast as you can. But you've hardly turned your back on them before you've forgotten what you called them. A poplar in the fields which you called 'the tower of Babel,' since you either didn't or wouldn't know that it was a poplar, stands waving anonymously again, and so you have to call it 'Noah in his cups.'"

—Franz Kafka, "Conversation with the Supplicant" (1909) (trans. Willa & Edwin Muir 1948)