I've mentioned before that our van is a 1999 Citroën Berlingo. We named him Bernie because he's an old white guy. Bernie was a white van man's van: he belonged to a company for twenty years and sat in their warehouse being taken care of, but mostly not used, so he was in practically mint condition when we bought him in 2019, but he only cost 2000€. Now contemporary Finnish driving education is teaching me about safety features that are common or required in modern-day cars that he doesn't have: traction and skid control, smart cruise control, side door airbags that you can disable in the back, front and rear fog lights, a screen that recommends which gear to use, warning messages when you exceed the detected speed limit.

Obviously a 1999 van doesn't have any of those. But waxjism has also been scaring me for weeks saying he's too old to have anti-lock brakes, but today I finally read the manual and he is not. He has anti-lock brakes! That one was the only one that was seriously upsetting (the car I learned to drive in didn't have any of the others: it was a 1993 Buick Skylark).

I have to get up early to go to Turku to take the driver's license theory test tomorrow, and today I took the practice theory test again as soon as I got back from my last driving simulator lesson, and failed with the worst score I've gotten on the practice tests yet (42/50 "situation" questions). Then I took it again immediately and passed with a perfect score for the first time.

I've taken the practice test 7 times in all, but I've also gone through all the practice question sets, which amounts to 60 tests' worth of situation questions and 40 tests' worth of verbal questions (with repetition!), and I have consequently pretty much been at saturation for a while. I can't predict whether I will miss situation questions when I do a set, but that's not because I haven't learned the material, it's because the questions are not at all like a situation you actually encounter while driving; they're more like a sort of Where's Waldo-esque detailed visual search game plus logic puzzle. About half the time I miss them because of something like not noticing that the car is on a priority road (when the sole clue that it's a priority road is the tiny triangular edge of the sign with 80% of the sign cropped off on the extreme edge of the image blending into the windows of an apartment building in the background) or not noticing that it's on a one-way street (when the sole clue that it's a one-way street is some painting on the road facing the wrong way that you can only see if you look in the left side mirror image but it's very small). So I just have to take methylphenidate and count breaths and try to make sure I take my time. And try not to get distracted.

(After the theory test I still have driving lessons in a real car, and then the driving test.)

Tristana never misses an opportunity to eat hair. She can't have toys with feathers, and she has to be watched like a hawk when I'm brushing or grooming bunnies, because she will stalk the balls of discarded fur with a surprising amount of tenacity and sneakiness. She frequently manages to steal tiny tufts of bunny fur from the edges of doorways that Rowan passes through (which always accumulate a small fringe of faintly-waving fronds every few days if I don't clean them off), but since bunny grooming is a discrete activity that requires a lot of attention, it is usually possible to simply carry the fur away and put it in a closed trash can that she can't reach without incident (although there have been past incidents with her stealing fur from the trashcan, but she's never managed to get very much).

So half an hour ago Tristana started being both extremely distressed and moderately distressing: ( cw: vomit )

(When picturing a ping-pong-sized ball of fur, recall that Tristana, while fully grown, is tiny. She was a runt and never fully made up for two weeks as an infant when she didn't gain weight. She weighed 2.3 kg or about 5 lb last year, and she is slim and wiry, the typical bundle-of-twigs/greyhoundish Oriental breed build.)

She's finished regurgitating now, and we put a bowl of clean water and the turtle bed, opened up so she could crawl inside, on the heated floor of the upstairs bathroom for her, and she immediately slunk in there to think about her misfortunes. I mean, to feel sorry for herself, not to analyze; I doubt she has any idea the fur-eating was related to her current distress.

But backing up to about midday today, earlier I had brushed Rowan and then neatly rolled up the excess fluff into a ball like I always do; but instead of carrying it into the kitchen and hiding it in the trash under the sink where Tristana couldn't get it, I left it on top of the trashcan because I was going to come right back and use the same trashbag to change the liners in the bunny litterboxes. I was going to put the soiled paper on top of the fur, so it would have been just as inaccessible. However, I got distracted and forgot.

So this is actually kind of an ADHD tax.