I’ve been learning to drive.

It feels like being back at school.

In Maths.

A class I know will be useful, but I just don’t understand.

With a teacher, who acknowledges that people learn in different ways,

But to them, differentiation means saying the same thing multiple times.

“Can you see it’s too wide, you need to turn right.”


“Can you see here (pointing), it’s too wide, you need to turn right.”

“Er, not really – it looks fine to me.”

“So it’s too wide here, and you need to turn right.”

“Oh, now you’ve said it a third time, yeah, I’m with you.”

School was the last time I was in a position doing something I thought I would fail at.

I feel a tight knot of anxiety, here. in my chest. Constant fear running on a treadmill in the back of my mind.

Lack of control. No understanding, just doing,

because you’ve been told to.

“You need to turn right”

The cheese is behind the wheel,

but she’s melting.

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