Tuesday, February 14, 2012

You've got a license... a license to kill

Things I've learned today:
  • The things that you understand or anticipate least will be what you are tested on
  • Being nervous majorly messes up your peeing schedule
  • And having "a license to kill" is nowhere near as fun as the James Bond movies make it out to be
The last point is probably because you look less like this:

"I may look like a penguin, but this penguin
is stylish, deadly and is guaranteed to sleep with more
women than you would hope to get in your wildest dreams"

And more like this:

"What? Those were pedestrians?
I totally thought they were speed bumps."

Of course, I'm speaking about the dreaded... driving test.

So dramatic, it needs its own dramatic animal.

And dreaded was definitely the operative word... 

Sunday was spent doing one thing. Panicking.

And my panicking caused my parents to panic, which caused me to panic even more.

It's a vicious cycle kids.
ME: I'm going to fail!
DAD: I don't think you even want to drive.
MUM: No, I don't think she does.
ME: I doooooo! 
Conversations almost identical to this one repeated themselves on a loop... all day.

So of course, I was panicking about panicking, because if I panicked, then my Mum and Dad would panic, and I would panic more as a result.

But I didn't end up panicking, so I did what I usually end up doing... panic about not panicking.


Do you guys follow that? 

No, I don't think I do either.

At 11am, I began to get ready, because I thought my Uncle said he was picking me up at 11.40am.

11.40am came and went. Still no Rob.

12pm came and went. Still no Rob.

12.30pm came and went. Still no Rob.

1pm came and went and... you guessed it. Still no Rob.

Of course, by this time, I thought one of three things could've happened.
  1. He forgot about me. No test for me.
  2. I was going crazy and the test wasn't booked for today, but another day instead.
  3. He was kidnapped by a fleet of rampant aliens.
These three situations drove me crazy. During the two hours I was waiting for my Uncle to arrive, I chewed upon twenty seven sticks of juicy fruit and went to the toilet a total of ten times.

Nervous peeing sucks. 

When he finally arrived (turns out, he had booked us in for 1.30pm... oops), we went over a few of the maneuvers and the show me, tell me questions before making our way down to the test centre.

The test centre, my little pretties, isn't as intimidating as you'd expect it to be. There aren't hundreds of people going about, there's no skulls or "turn back now" posters on the walls. In fact, it was quite a... happy place to be...

Maybe not as happy as that

The only thing that gave the misery of the place away was the lonely ambulance waiting outside the building.

Hey, I wasn't even through the gates...
Don't blame it on me!

Rob gave me a little run down on the instructors before we were anywhere near the test centre:
ROB: *Points behind me* There's the lady examiner out on a test. She's... fair.
ME: Good fair?
ROB: Fair.
ME: Bad fair?
ROB: Let's just say she's fair. 
I know appearances can be deceiving, but she seemed lovely! 

Of course... I didn't get her.

Nothing was said about the man in the high visibility jacket. 

However, Rob did warn me about this one man...
ROB: You've just got to watch out for the man who doesn't wear a high vis and has the ball chain around his glasses like an old school mistress. He's... fair. They're all fair, but this man is meant to be a bit of a...
He would always trail off after that bit. 

The fact that his superiority meant he didn't need to wear a high vis jacket didn't bother me in the slightest. His glasses did however. We had this absolute monster of a science teacher/deputy head in primary school, and she had those glasses with the ball chain. We were all petrified of her. I hated going back to school on Tuesday afternoons because she would scare the living daylights out of us all. 

Anyone and anything that reminds me of her either makes me laugh or want to cry.

His glasses were the latter.

Nae doot, I got the man with the glasses. 

Dave his name was, and I shouldn't listen to my Uncle because he was lovely. Up until the very end, when he then began to criticise me, but hey, that's what he's paid to do, right? 

I don't want to go into too much detail about my test, but let's just say:
  • I got a bay park. That's my worst manoeuvre.
  • I've never been able to understand the roundabout at Asda Bridge of Dee... guess what roundabout I had to go around?
  • I came very close to failing because of hesitation at a roundabout, so thank you to whoever told me to go when I did, because Dave said that if I didn't, I would have failed.
Anyway, he gave me my pretty practice test certificate at the end and I got a big hug from Uncle Rob.
ROB: Out of all the people that have went up for their tests, you are the one that I wanted to pass most.

Anyway, I went home and told my Mum and Dad, and they were really proud. Therefore, I'm pretty happy today!

Before I switch off (it's 0.10am now and I'm growing tired quickly) I'd like to tell you about a really strange thing that happened just before I went out of the house to drive to my test this afternoon...

Basically, I was trying to calm myself down because I knew that if I didn't, I would mess up and fail the test. Anyways, I was trying to do that, when all of a sudden, I got a familiar smell of soap and cologne, a smell that I have not been able to sense for the past six years. 

It's the smell that I associate with my Grandad, who died back in 2006.

He always used to try teaching me about cars and he was the main reason that I was so eager to learn how to drive. And knowing that he was there on the day of my driving test made me so happy.

I know, I know, he wasn't physically there, but to be honest, I really couldn't care. He was there in my mind and in my heart, and that's all that matters.

So that pass was for you Grandad, I just hope that I made you proud :)

Lauren xxx