Almost one year ago, I wrote a blog post which can be described in one word: blah. Of course, I was under the influence of medication and schooling. So I read the next to last one. I am proud to say that I can now solve the equation I put into it. So there. May I continue now?
Ah, the sweet smell of a new driver's license. This handy little piece of plastic has given me the right to the road, however scary that is to my parents. When I drive, it's like there's no one to tell me what to do; I alone control the car. (well, there's a few choice people who like to honk when I actually stop at a stop sign, but they don't count.)
Ever since I started driving on my own, I've noticed how many people really don't pay any attention whatsoever to the rules of the road. What is this? Instead of waiting for a green light to go through the intersection, they start to roll forward until they're in the middle of traffic before the light turns green. Not only is this a hazard to traffic, it totally freaks me out when I can't see the light and the huge monster truck in front of me starts to edge forward into the intersection. Personally, I think these people want to be the FIRST ones to pass through the intersection. Maybe it's their only form of achievement. "Hey, I just went through FIRST! Take THAT, all you rule-followers! My car is the BEST because I can pull into traffic and 4 times out of 10 no one honks at or hits me!"
I really can't blame them for that. They have to feel accomplished somewhere.
There is a downside to getting a driver's license, my friends. It's called "chauffeuring." Take last night, for example. It's about 10:30 and I'm all ready for bed. My mother, who is also ready for bed, says, "Oh dear. Melodie, I need you to run an errand for me. Here are the keys. Be back before curfew."
Uh huh.
Fortunately, my sister was still publicly decent, so I sent her in while I sat in the car in my pajamas.
I have a feeling that this is going to happen a lot more around here.
In other news, reality hit me on the head like a cliché piano falling off of a skyscraper when my counselor started telling me about the ACT test this year. Yikes! This test is a monster. It's the test that proves whether or not you've been listening to your teachers all the years you've been going to school. Colleges look at this test score and tell you whether or not your life will continue after high school. It's not just the test that bothers me. It's the "life after the test" stage that's coming faster than a cheetah running down a slick slope. (If you haven't noticed, I'm on a simile role today.) I have to start thinking about college and housing and money and responsibility... That alone should be enough to make my head explode. Unfortunately, it doesn't. Don't get me wrong; I'm really excited to escape the grasp of the high school bubble. I just have pre-life anxiety. Or whatever adults want to call it. I call it CRAZY!
Suffice it to say, growing up is becoming a nuisance as well as a blessing. Blessing: I can drive. Nuisance: I'm not allowed to play on the playground anymore because I'm "too old." (That one gets me every time. Hey, I love to slide down the twisty slide.) I guess the only thing I can do is wait it out and hope for the best. And play on the playground before anyone gets up.
