I guess this is what it must feel like to be pregnant.
Or like a girl who’s learning stick shift.
The last week has been my first week driving the stick (name still to be decided).
And man, it got driven a lot. Several hours worth of distance every day.
And during those hours: my emotions swung everywhere.
And most days went a little something like this:
Get out of the driveway.
Wait at the stop sign to cross two lanes of traffic.
Fidget, body tenses
Make it to the freeway safely.
Shift onto the freeway, guy behind me tailgates as I shift too slowly.
Navigate the freeway.
Have to get off the freeway for some reason (gas, destination, etc.).
Get to stop sign/stoplight.
Light turns Green.
Restart, let foot off clutch.
The car behind me honks.
Somehow get the car started.
Get through that intersection.
Get stopped at a light.
Another car honks.
Burst into tears
Most of last week I stalled at least 3 times a day.
And burst into tears at least once a day. (I swear I don’t cry that much!)
It all culminated into Friday, I jumped in the car, headed off to work.
I was parked a bit differently and was going to have to navigate a bit more to get out of the driveway. Now, our driveway is relatively flat at the top, drops off on one side, and the drive is a good 70O angle. So I didn’t want to go off the edge, and I didn’t want to be trying to navigate the steep drive.
When my turning angles weren’t quite what I wanted them to be (damn you geometry!), I tried to go back to start over.
I turned too sharply, and the right front tire went over the edge.
Cue the tears.
A quick phonecall to my dad – a turn of the steering wheel, and the right wheel was able to grab onto concrete and pull me back onto the driveway.
Completely shaken, I took my dad’s car. Loving the automatic, and not having to shift, I was able to calm down.
But just as many of you claimed I would, I missed the shifting. I can’t say I missed the control, which I hadn’t gotten yet, I didn’t even miss the gas mileage, which I hadn’t calculated yet.
I can’t honestly tell you what I missed. But when my mom suggested I stop driving the stick, I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t just the desire to learn (or ‘stubborness to learn’ I guess I should say), but there’s something about the car that I liked.
So I returned to the stick.
And for three days now I’ve been relatively stall free! (Only twice in three days!)
I can HEAR the engine changes. I’m starting to understand the shifting.
It’s falling into place!
But my emotions are still all over the place. No more crying – but panic. That’s definitely still there.