So many things are happening nowadays. Job interviews and searchings (I just had an interesting job interview, but I’ll leave a cliff hanger and tell you about that later). But the biggest and newest and most horrible thing is driving.
Yes. I’m a late-bloomer. Yes, I’m eighteen and don’t have a license. . . I have my permit though.
Yesterday (was it yesterday? Seems so far away, praise God), was my driving test. . I was scheduled for 10am. Got there early. Went through the line. Was given instructions. My Mom drove the car into the little driveway. And we waited. We were there for thirty minutes before this cranky, worn looking lady wearing a floral shirt tapped on my wind shield, where my permit and appointment time was, seeing I had been there for so long, and went inside. Soon, she was back out, telling me my instructor was MIA or something and she’d take over instead.
She had me do the hand signals, point at my buttons, and honk the horn. Then got in the passenger side, pushing the chair all the way back to fit in (I may be bitter, but I don’t judge), and proceeded to tell me, in this skin-crawlingly calm and measured voice that she won’t trick me or make me do anything illegal — you know, by-the-book words that no one cares about, except in court. Then she told me to pull out of the parking lot, and will I hurry? it’s HOT. So I quickly and obediently moved it along, stopping where I needed to stop with a long squeak. “Oooh. You need to have your brakes checked,” she said. I smiled through the fear, trying to be polite, hoping I can’t fail a test from squeaky brakes.
I made one right turn at a stop sign, she had me pull to the curb (then said “no, sweetie, pull to the curb, as if you’re parking”. Because I obviously didn’t do it right. But I pretended I didn’t hear her and got closer), she had me back up a ways, then we were back on the move. At the light, she said I needed to turn right.
So I go up to the red light and look at the oncoming traffic. I let some pedestrians go then inched forward to see better. I realized after a few seconds that I would’ve had time to go before that white truck came, but it was too late now, so I let it pass. Then, I thought of a DMV video I saw the night before about “being too cautious” and waiting too long.
Long story short. . I went for it. And my instructor lost all and any cool she might have had, waving her clip board in front of her face, arms and legs flailing, “STO-OP! STO-OP!” Her voice croaked. The little black car behind me honked and swerved. Then I saw the sign that read 40mps and hit the gas to match the speed of the rest of the traffic. . .while my instructor was still going off in hysterics: “WHY would you go?” I felt like, and she agreed most undoubtedly, that I was the stupidest little piece of dirt she had ever come in contact with.
I knew instantly I had failed the test.
No more than five minutes later, I returned to the DMV, holding in tears, while the “instructor” (she didn’t do much instructing, just sayn’) furiously flicked lines and grades on her sheet and swung it at me. I quietly asked when I could retake. She said to make an appointment or “if you want to wait in that long line. .” then got out of the car.
Drive test over.
I still haven’t looked at the stupid sheet. I don’t think I care, though she wrote in great detail how I screwed up for the world to see.
I cried my way over to Taco Bell for my not-victory lunch and couldn’t eat anything through the tears. The girl there asked if she could get me and my mom some nachos or cinnamon twists. I just tried to drink my slurpee. .
In the end, we went back to the DMV and waited in line for an hour or so. (I’m that kind of girl who just wants to get things over with. QUICKLY. And I didn’t want the day to end without my getting my license.) Turns out, you can’t take a drive test without an appointment. At least at this time. So we most literally waited in that line for nothing. The lady at the desk was uncommonly and wonderfully nice so she set it all up for us.
I take my test on the 19th at 11. Or 11:30, I can’t remember. Please be praying for me.
It wasn’t the fact that I failed, really, that’s so horrible. It’s how I failed; doing something I know was stupid. It really shot my confidence. I’m now nervous and scared to get behind the wheel, but I’m trying to work it out.
That’s life right now. . And, the reason why I haven’t been posting. I cried all day yesterday, and kind of coped today, so tomorrow I should be able to get back on the writing ball. So that’s good.
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