Vroom Vroom
Whenever I start thinking that the Bay Area is just a city like any other, I must remember I have a friend who had a car with the pronouns vroom/vroom or something like that, and they were being perfectly serious. I’m glad that friend never took me for a drive, I’d spend the entire time sure I’m always on the verge of misgendering the car.
Ahem.
I’ve been dreaming about driving lately. I’m driving, even, one memorable dream-moment lately had me in some sort of convertable Mini Cooper? I had sun and breeze on my head and arm, but I couldn’t even see the tiny car.
Will there be some point in my future where I completely forget I once spent years with so little inner drive (heh), I didn’t even have a license? Meesa asked about getting a CA license and I dodged the question, because the truth that I was a helpless bus rider and walker, nothing more, was too embarrassing. I don’t know why. Other people have lost much more than me in my separation. Some almost nothing (or just good things), but I did not (yet) end up homeless.
And next week, I may be a legal driver again. Who can occasionally drive a ride share car? Meh, if income widens, a car can be possible in the future. My brother might even be able to pitch in, because it would certainly be helpful to him to not be responsible for every doctor’s appointment or whatever.
Me, a car owner. Been a few years since I dared that dream. Heh, there’s something interesting going on deep in my psyche, that’s for sure.