Giant death machine made of metal and plastic, moving at speeds beyond my own ability; that I'm secured in and placed in charge of.
When you think about it, it's really rather disturbing. When I think about it, I over think it.
I successfully got my license on Friday, yesterday. We woke bright and early (literally. the sun had just barely risen.) and drove for two hours to the DOL so I could get my Enhanced License. Well, more confusion, waiting, bad pictures, and DMV smells later, and I had a temporary license shoved into the pages of The Hobbit. A regular license. Yes, but when the hard copy comes in, I'll then be able to go and get my Enhanced. (long story)
When I passed my drive test a couple weeks ago, it was like a great stress, a great weight, was lifted off my shoulders. For so long I felt like I didn't have what it took to pass the test, and that by extension I wasn't a good driver. Typically, when I over think something, when I worry so hard about failing, I will. And for quite a while, whether or not I actually was failing, it felt like it to me.
Then when I made it, I passed my drive test, I did well, I succeeded, I realized, I wasn't some horrible driver after all. I can do this. It was nice.
My uncle gave me a car earlier this spring. It's what spurred me on to get my license. The opportunity that I'd be able to take myself to the lake in the summer. Not having to coerce or pay for gas for the van for my parents to drive me places. I finally had a reason to really, really try to get my license.
And today, I found myself behind the wheel of my car - still funny saying that, "my car" - with my license in my pocket. My license, that I achieved. And instead of squiggling around in my seat, second-guessing myself and imagining all the horrible ways I had to fail - stick shift, no less - I didn't think about it. I didn't sit and worry. I acted, I did, I learned.
And you know what? I was pretty dang good at it.
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