Straight No Chaser

Fig

my mother says fig instead of fuck. it is, for her, the ultimate expletive. i asked my dad whether that was a recent thing, the product of always having to censor herself when we were little kids, and he said no. always that, always fig, since grad school, when they met. she is charming, and i've always wanted to be more like her.

it's an idle friday. a fridle. now that my transmission pan is fixed, i need to go to jiffy lube, get my tire pressure and oil checked. i don't want to, though, because i'm tired. and because the fig on the phone laughed at me when, after i requested directions to his store location, i also asked whether there was a consultation fee. laughed at a naive college student who has had more car trouble this week than throughout the rest of her life altogether. i hope that made his day.

one class today, and no work. hence the idle. but the one class was logic, a hell class only because it's so slow and boring, and because i have to share desk space with my mortal enemy. (see: "every woman should have one other woman she hates passionately for no reason.") mostly i sit and scribble, follow along through one or two problems and then tune him out because it's so simple, so obvious, sooooo slooooow. today he started asking for board volunteers. i volunteered first, for brownie points and because i'd never have kept paying attention otherwise. approached the board, amazingly cocky, smirking at the waiting problem, and proceeded to do it completely wrong. in front of everybody. in front of her. a figging disaster. "thanks," said the professor afterward, sarcastic-like. my heart broke.

my recycle drawer is filled with the printouts of a thousand stillborn emails to marcus, each one a little less hostile than the last. i'm hoping to exorcise my frustration in these drafts, so that they're sweeter and sweeter and sweeter, till it's finally just, "i love you, i miss you, come let's color a picture and then fig slowly till the trees bow to the restored strength of our union." nine drafts, so far. this is what's wrong with a fridle.