Officially Adulted...

On Friday I passed my driving test.

I'll repeat.

On Friday I PASSED my driving test.

All yee who have been driving since birth will fail to understand the monstrous enormity of this accomplishment in my world. But driving, to me, has been a massive wall in my head that I could not scale. Maths is a similar wall, along with assembling Ikea furniture. But while I may (will) never conquer the wall of Maths, I have conquered driving and I am absurdly proud of myself.

Here is the tale of my scaling the driving wall:

1. Got my provisional license (permit) aged 18 - a little late but still an acceptable age.

Didn't use it.

2. Started having lessons over the summer when I was 19. Stopped after I returned to uni and a) couldn't afford it and b) couldn't be bothered.

3. Spent 8 years coming up with a mountain of reasons for why I didn't need to drive. Things like being environmentally friendly (total BS since I was flying across the atlantic every 4 months), and not needing to because of public transport (and friends with cars) and money of course (in England you have to be insured on whatever car you're learning on and it's not cheap).

But really I was just afraid. Terrified, in fact. I used to have a recurring nightmare that I was driving and I didn't know how or I couldn't open my eyes. When I barely trust myself to carry a glass across a room (not many people have songs made up about the clumsiness of their hands), putting myself in charge of tons of moving metal didn't seem like the best of plans.

And then I moved to America, which leads us to

4. No longer able to rely on public transport to get me everywhere and faced with the fact that EVERYONE drives here (and thinks you're a mutant if you don't know how) and that I'll likely need to if/when I actually gain employment, I took the theory test to get my permit and then...

5. Did nothing for about 6 months. But then I...

6. Interviewed for a job that involved a ton of driving so decided I really should learn how. And so a few nights a week (like at 11pm) Jeremy and I would brave the roads and carparks of Waltham and slowly, slowly I learned to drive. I had multiple temper tantrums and one panic attack but eventually I pretty much got the hang of it and I booked my test.

7. Took the test with my dear mother-in-law sat dutifully in the back seat and all was going well (well, not 'well' exactly but I hadn't yet failed) until I drove through a stop sign.

Yes, I said it, I failed my first test because I drove through a stop sign. Classic. I was not amused. But, thankfully, driving through stop signs is a fairly easy flaw to rectify so I rebooked my test and

8. Then I passed.Only 9 years after I first got my provisional license I passed. Not with flying colours mind you, but I don't really care about the colours provided I never have to take that test again...

...oh yea...

9. When I move back to England I will have to retake the test and learn how to drive on the opposite side of the road and drive on roads ridiculously narrow and windy and terrifying...

10. Before that though I need to summon the courage to drive somewhere, anywhere, on my own.