once upon a time in peterborough
i lived in an old house downtown. with sometimes nine other people and a collie named molly. i am still not really getting it that i dont go to school anymore. when someone asks me what i do, student, is the first word out of my mouth even though its not true. now? i have the romantic title or writer, and the machine that goes with it. i sometimes imagine how romantic it must have been to write on a typewriter looking out through an open window to the street or a park. i hate sometimes to admit i sit in an office at a wheely chair and a desk with four legs, even if my computer work is interesting and i find little joys in knowing about destinations far far away and what airlines can take me there. a bird flies by and im distracted already. little sparrows and little swallows.
i still read texts my professors recommended and i follow syllabus (syllabi?) from classes im not taking, just because i love the structure of a reading course and what some friends are taking at school. here is my book collection in hungary at the moment. it was totally painstaking to choose which books to take and which to leave. but a recently acquired library card has solved it all thank you british council library. a few i took out are for an english class im teaching now. my first student.. ever.