from the bottom of my basal ganglia, hello and #@!%*$!

recently, i had the opportunity to talk to precisely 232 people on behalf of their local library. what made this exhausting was that i talked to them in groups of 2 or 3 over the course of 6 hours. unfortunately it was precisely that day that i decided to get struck with a case of the awkwards. every interaction became a chance to stammer, mix up my words and completely forget important pieces of information they needed.

like when i told one nice man i could show him how to neuter. i meant renew. as in extend the due date of his books, not remove their testicles. the two words aren’t really even close. why my brain was wandering even in the VICINITY of castration during that conversation is unexplainable. it can’t be explained. we simply had to move on.

By the end of the day, i was so paranoid about my subconscious sabotaging me that every time i greeted a new group, half a dozen of the WORST POSSIBLE THINGS i could say at that moment would immediately crowd my brain. everything from colorful sexual colloquialisms to really offensive racial slurs. is it possible to have tourette’s of the brain? silent tourette’s? is that a thing? do i have something serious i need to see someone about?

it was like that invisible force that tugs at you when you’re standing at the edge of any steep drop looking down. like something in you hates the fear of it happening so badly that it would rather get it over with. it was that same dickish part of my brain that was trying to trip me up with fart jokes when i greeted the next couple with a clear and flawless, “Hi! My name is Tink. I’m from the library!”

YES! take THAT, amygdala you fucker!

“Nice to meet you,” says the woman.

“Thank you,” i say.


Let’s just move on.

(P.S. for this post, i googled brain structures until my Wernicke got tired.)

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