Stick up my ass
I fricken hate driving. Why did I get my license? Did I think I could drive? Did I think I could actually jump into a car and not do terribly?
Being on the road stresses me out to a level I've never experienced. I come out of the car shaking every time. Several minutes after getting out I'll still have weak knees. And you know what happens when I get stressed? I get snappy. And I become an asshole.
So why do I try to drive? Well it would seem that I have to since J'Aime doesn't have a working car and I'm sitting on a PT Cruiser that's had my name on it since I was a junior. So I got my license and took the Cruiser home to Eugene. I can't drive a stick. I can barely drive an automatic. I learned how to drive it over the weekend, and I know how, I just need to practice apparently. But I don't seem to be getting any better at all, making the car lurch and grind and do all sorts of crazy crap. Takes me four tries to start the car without killing it, and even then I go careening out of control too fast. I give up. I can't do it. I keep trying and trying while attempting to stay calm, but when you're in a deathtrap on the road and it's doing an insane little dance down the road, you get a little worried. Which helps a lot when driving already makes you nervous.
So I become an even bigger asshole. Here's the kicker, to the one person I care about. I can't help it, this stuff scares the shit out of me, and I don't want to deal with it anymore. But I'm stuck. I have to do it. I no longer have a choice. I shouldn't have gotten my license.
It's too bad I'm no good at anything worthwhile. Can't drive. Can't be a decent boyfriend. But I can collect Webwood Venom Sacs with the best of 'em!
Think I'll go do that.