Went to watch Courtney cheerlead today on Andrews. Dad let me drive home.
When will I be able to describe my driving episodes without using the words “big” and “mistake”?
We got home in one piece, as is evident because I’m writing this blog entry right now. I’m still having trouble braking and making turns and such. I think my dad might be contirbuting to that. He told me, “When I tell you to do something, you have to do it.” Duh! What does he think I’m doing? When he says “brake”, I brake. I don’t speed up or turn. That would be something to complain about. I’m still learning how much to brake and when. I know I’m not supposed to speed up until I’ve finished my turn. He acts so surprised when I don’t speed up when he expects me to. I didn’t think I was finished turning yet. I hadn’t straightened out. Would he prefer it if I sped up while in the middle of my turn?
This is going to be harder than I thought. Not that I thought it’d be easy, but still… He can’t quite grasp the fact that he’s been driving for, like, 25 years, and I’ve been driving for all of four weeks. This is still new for me. He can’t expect me to be perfect right away. When he tells me to do something and I screw it up, I remember it. For next time. If I could, I’d go back and redo whatever it was. But I can’t. So he has to live with it.
My dad has a very short temper. He won’t yell at me, cause that wouldn’t help at all, but I can tell he gets frustrated. I’m supposed to be practicing. I’m supposed to be learning from my mistakes. Which I am. It’s not a good feeling to be desperately trying to do something you’re not good at, and failing every time. This is too much. I hate how I’m so sensitive, I just start crying out of nowhere. I can’t help it. If I could, I would. Crying makes me feel stupid and childish. Which is not so great for my confidence about driving.
I need to go out with Mom. Not that it’ll be any easier, but I have to do something. This is going to be a really freakin’ long four months.