Sunday 29 September 2013

Shut up and take my money (£209.45 for ten hours! save £50!)

I'm learning to drive. Don't really want to, but I'm sick of people getting at me for being eighteen and not driving yet. Eighteen, jeez, what a twat I am. How dare I be ambivalent to the idea of owning a vehicle. How dare I make use of public transport. How dare I ask for lifts. What. A. Shit.
I asked my instructor if it's ever occurred to him that humans are just not meant to drive. If evolution wanted us to travel any considerable distance then we'd have wings. He told me to shut up and go up into third gear, remember the clutch.
Fucking hell.

Sunday 22 September 2013

Sam Winchester is my animagus

Guess who's finally jumped on the Supernatural bandwagon? Only, like, eight seasons too late, but better late than never.
My provisional license arrived this morning. That means I've not got to learn how to fucking drive, damnit. 
My boss keeps nagging me about driving, despite it being none of her business and, actually, quite rude. It's not that I don't want that freedom, but allow me to entrust unto you a short list of reasons why "Katherine" and "driving" just don't seem to click:
  1. It's expensive. Katherine is a) perpetually broke and b) completely unwilling to spend the little she has.
  2. Katherine is not a clever person. The idea of her in control of a massive, metal, moving vehicle with the potential to be a killing machine - just, no. I see bad things arising.
  3. It's expensive.
  4. I mean, really expensive.
    1. The license.
    2. The lessons.
    3. The motherfucking vehicle.
    4. The insurance.
    5. The tax.
    6. The fuel.
    7. The maintenance.
    8. IT'S JUST EXPENSIVE OKAY.
  5. Katherine has intense anxiety (I mean, considering she's never driven a car once, it seems an excessive level of anxiety) about being responsible for passengers, and that one-in-a-trillion scenario of "just driving around with some friends la la la oops crash everyone dead but me" plagues her like some kind of plague.
  6. Did I mention that it's expensive?
  7. Going back to the anxiety thing - seriously. It's the biggest damn "if" ever, but what if? I don't want that guilt on my shoulders for the rest of my life. Therefore, my ideal car would be a one-seater. What's that? Did you say motorbike? If you can convince my mother, please do.
  8. Two-seaters are even more expensive than five-seaters.
  9. It's all so very expensive.
There you have it.
I genuinely resent the amount of money I'm losing because people keep telling me that I have to fucking drive.