I’m going to talk about something that’s hard for me. Please though, don’t worry, just laugh with me. I know it’s ridiculous.
Driving.
I hate it so much. I don’t think I’m bad at it. Like most drivers on the road, I think I’m pretty good. It’s everyone else that’s awful. Which isn’t true, there are some notably kind drivers on the road.
I’ve only been pulled over once. I was anxious about getting back in the right lane. I went too fast. I pulled over in the parking lot of a sports bar. I cried uncontrollably the whole time. The officer was VERY unsympathetic. (Speaking of, do you know what makes me cry worse? People telling me it isn’t a big deal, stop crying.)
I generally drive very carefully. That made me even more cautious.
I carefully monitor my speedometer. I try to stay within 5 miles above the speed limit. Because not upsetting the drivers around me matters as much as not getting a ticket. Going slower is not really accepted. People pass you with a vengeance.
I stop for yellow lights I could probably speed through.
I PANIC any time I have to change lanes in a very short span of time.
I call other drivers names…and then immediately apologize.
I never block the intersection.
I stay as far away from people on bikes as possible.
But today. Today. I had to turn left at a really difficult place without a left turning light. So I didn’t. I turned right. Then left on an easier street. Then left again. It probably took longer. But it sure made me feel better.
So there’s something I wonder about. Is that a positive coping mechanism or something malignant? I honestly can’t tell.
Sure, it makes me feel better. But it also makes me feel a little crazy.
I may have also stared at Google Maps for 5 minutes in advance to make sure I knew which streets were one way.
Judge me as hard as you’d like. I can deal.
-Smudged
