tuckova

this is your brain. this is your brain on monday.

a fun conversation to have with yourself when walking alone is the one
that starts, "remember when we were in paris together and we ate the
croissants?" it is more fun if you do it in a french accent. today i
nearly moved myself to tears with the "and you said you would always
love me, and that you had never loved me," and decided that perhaps
street performance is too much at 7:30, even if it is just for an
audience of one.

i finally submitted the formal request to let Squire Tuck out of school for
three weeks. STARTING FRIDAY. it is a whirlwind life we lead, tuckovans.

noticing how much of my time is spent wishing i were small,
really small. i’d like to fit inside your pocket. you could carry me
around like christopher robin carried piglet. i sometimes feel so rank
with my own obsessions that i doubt my ability to be of much use to
anyone, even small comfort, but i would like to be. and i would like to
get a good look at an inkpot, like piglet did.

today in czech class i misplaced the words for anesthesia, virus, and
museums. the mind simply would not produce them in czech, so i did the
thing you aren’t supposed to do and went looking for them in english,
hoping to trigger the czech word. interestingly, i had also lost the
english words. brain the size of a planet, it’s no wonder things go
missing, but still.

i went to buy the bus tickets to the airport. this is maybe the most unprepared i’ve
been for an epic journey. (all my journeys are epic). usually i’m packed by now (because i used to
take days to pack, and now i can do it in an hour, but i still do it
days before the departure, because i am not very clever about doing
things). the bus i planned for is sold out (see? see how i should have
planned ahead), so i had to flip out and wander around downtown trying
to think of how to make it right. a man was looking at the lacy underwear in
a shop window while holding a newspaper over his head to ward off the
freezing rain, and he walked right into me.

i have a headache that is slightly larger than my head and a small furry knife in the back of my throat. perhaps i should pack just in case things get worse.