Where is my Mind?

It is some relief that I note that I seem to have been able to avoid dropping my belongings in toilets in the last week or so. Unfortunately, I now have a deep-seated mistrust of toilets and their motives; it hasn’t gotten to the point where I lock myself in a bathroom or toilet cubicle, glare at the porcelain throne and say ‘don’t even think about it, pal’, but I fear I’m not all that far away.

Of course, it’s also possible that, in avoiding dropping physical possessions in the lav, I have instead sacrificed my brain to its watery pine-scented depths. I have been a forgetful, tongue-tied airhead of late, which partly accounts for my absense here. My father is very generously suggesting it’s probably a result of my brain responding to all the stress and hard work of the past few weeks. Whatever it is, I have never lived up to my hair colour more (blonde, I mean. I never did end up going cyan. I’m such a puss.).

Last Friday (the 18th) was my last exam, of both the semester and my undergraduate degree (whoo! Now I’m just waiting to find out if I’ve been accepted into Honours). It was for a subject I didn’t particularly like, mostly because it wasn’t very academically rigorous and because, despite the fact that he was very nice, the lecturer who runs it isn’t actually very good at the class teaching side of things. That said, I think I managed to write a couple of fairly decent essays in the 2 hours allotted to the exam, despite the fact that I forgot it was open book, and hence didn’t take anything in with me. Oh yeah, that’s the way to not completely suck at something! Fortunately the sweet girl sitting at the desk next to me was able to lend me her copy of one of the novels, which she’d brought with her despite not having read it and not planning on writing on it (I can’t pretend to understand her logic there but it got me out of a tight spot, so hey). It wasn’t a completely one-sided exchange since I gave her some tissues when she spilled water all over her desk. Thank you, book-lending water-spilling anonymous girl! You saved my arse! Or at least a cheek of it anyway, since I had to write two essays on two different books.

Yesterday I also managed to get my entry for the Glen Eira Literary Awards in on time, despite the fact that I went in to Uni to print it off (I don’t have a printer at home) and didn’t realise until I got there that I hadn’t emailed it to myself or remembered the disc it was on. All this happened an hour before I was due to go to work, and I won’t fill you in on all the details of my running back and forth, except to say that the staff at the Caulfield Library rock my world. I still can’t believe I did that. Normally I can at least nominally pass for well-organised and not completely scatterbrained.

The worst thing that’s happened as far as my brain fucking me over is concerned was the dream I had the other night that a friend of mine who died when I was 15 was still alive, and that we were hanging out together. It was a great dream and I woke up feeling really elated for a moment, until reality set in and I realised what was really going on. That was nasty, and I was pretty upset for the rest of the day.

Other than that, it’s just been stupid shit like forgetting most of my vocabulary and being completely unable to communicate effectively (which has had some hilarious results at work), and general forgetfulness. I hope my brain gets back on track soon, or I will refuse to be held responsible for any actions which may or may not include stabbing it with a cotton tip.

2 Responses to “Where is my Mind?”

  1. beth Says:

    Ah. The Glen Eira Literary Awards. Another sad entry form that I can throw into the bin un-filled out and (obviously) unsent. I am VERY bad with entry dates. Even though you were dealing with blonde moments, at least you got yours in!

  2. kathryn Says:

    I dropped my favourite lipstick in the toilet once. Not only was it my favourite but it was also discontinued. I did have a moment of thinking it could be salvagable before dumping it in the bin.

    I don’t blame you for mistrusting toilets.