saturn went direct again

- was the only one to get an A the first grading period. had to stop them from putting me on their shoulders

- became the official classroom mascot on account of i was the only girl. this meant i was an integral stop on any and all workshop tours. was referred to as “Our Lady Helena” on these occasions

- almost set myself on fire once bc my prof stood behind me watching me try a skill he’d just demonstrated and he shouted very suddenly very loudly. restarted my heart and asked WTF WAS THAT FOR JOHN and he called me a “goddamn wonder”. i almost got third degree burned over a compliment

- mentioned offhand ONE TIME that swords were cool. also mentioned my birthday offhand ONE TIME. one of The Guys remembered both instances and also happened to find a sword in a dumpster so he gave it to me for my birthday

- came in fifth in an arm wrestling competition

- french braided my hair in class bc i didn’t have time to do it beforehand. ended up with an audience of like 5+ guys trying to figure out how tf i was doing it

- told The Guys my college friends call me barbie. Mistake. suddenly had all 12 of them calling me Barbarian

- had some down time and made a silly little sculpture with some scraps. The Guys were endlessly intrigued by this and demanded to see some of my art school stuff. had a small crowd around my phone cheering loudly every time i swiped to a new picture

- accidentally mentioned the cafe i worked at. Mistake. several days later all 12 of them came in to bother me

i

I don't mean you can't get good at things through repeated practice. You can do that, I have done that, but I don't trust it.

I was driving this morning and thinking about how I have never developed the blasé contempt for it most people seem to despite never having caused an accident in 20 years because my sense of time is such that I might as well have been driving for a week. I'm a good, safe driver, but I do not have a heap of confidence in my driving despite having regularly done it for two decades because my sense of time is such that those two decades may as well not have happened.

I finished editing a novel today. When I publish it, it will be the 64th novel I have published in the last 10 years, not counting ghostwritten work. You'd think after a decade and 63 novels I'd be confident that I was capable of writing, editing, and publishing a novel—even be confident about the timeline for this—but no. No, I feel like I'm doing it for the first time, every time, and I was surprised to have finished the editing at all, let alone on time. Because those other 63 novels were published in a past I have a vague at best concept of. I have a record that says it happened but I do not feel it.

I cannot trust my future behaviour because for me there is functionally no past. I know it occurred, I have records, but I don't feel it the way people without this kind of memory issue do. I feel inexperienced at everything I've ever done and I cannot accurately estimate my skill level at anything, particularly not on the fly.