On the 12th January this year, in the first snow of the year in Birmz, I passed my driving test! Since then, I’ve been zipping around Brum in the cute little blue car that I share with my sister and feeling slightly terrified that I have full responsibility for my driving.

Even now, I’ll press the brake lightly and have to mentally confirm that it was me doing it and not a driving instructor. Okay, now I think about it, that is really worrying so let’s move on swiftly. I mean, I’m clearly a *safe* driver, otherwise they wouldn’t have given me a FULL ON PROPER LEGAL REAL DRIVING LICENSE (sorry, I just still can’t quite believe that it’s happened).

You may have noticed that I’ve done all this rather late (compared to a lot of teens who learn to drive straight away at 17), but to be honest, I’ve been fine all these years without driving. I’ve only really been confined to two cities: Birmingham and Nottingham, both of which have bloody amazing public transport systems, with regular buses, trams and trains. Plus there’s that good old fashioned thing called walking where you move your legs to get around, though I think it’s gone out of fashion recently.

I still commute to Notts via the train, though this is mostly because my mother won’t “let” me use the motorway until she “deems me ready for it”. So I’ll let you know when I’ve been released onto the rest of the country, but it’ll probably be when I’m 45 at this rate (at which point, I probably should have just bought a train, not a car).

Apart from getting to the train station when I’m too lazy/tired to walk in the mornings for uni and work, the thing that I really use my car for is to walk the dogs. Which really doesn’t actually make sense at face value – why would anyone drive somewhere to walk? But I like letting the doggies off the lead, and seeing them run around looking all happy about the new smells and poop to roll in, and if I did that outside my house then they’d just immediately get run over and killed. So there is method in the madness. But, well, my dogs aren’t really *normal*.

So while you drive, Sherlock will mostly just lie there looking all fed up with life (as per), but Watson will be going crazy – pacing, looking out of the windows, trampling over Sherlock, jumping on the back of the front seats… And *then*, when you actually reach the park or wherever it is that you’re going, things really start to kick off. Sherlock finally finds the energy to get up, and also starts jumping on the back of the seats in the front, and then they both start to cry. Loudly. And Sherlock emits the shrillest most annoying bark I have ever had the displeasure to hear. Bless his lil face, he goes bonkers. And you know what, it’s pretty bloody hard to drive with all that going on behind you.Β But it’s also kind of hilarious, so it’s not that bad I suppose. I’ve also discovered that I make odd noises while I drive, so I can’t be too judgmental of Sherlock, ha.

Anyway, the very first thing I did after I passed was buy a big cute pusheen keyring to put on my car keys, but despite it being the cutest thing ever (see image above), my mum hates it and keeps taking it off, despite having keys of her own. It makes me (and pusheen, I’m sure) very sad.

I am loving driving though. Driving definitely gives you even more independence. But basically, if you have a lil blue car stall in front of you in Birmingham, that’s probably me (and sorry in advance, especially if you can hear me swearing at the same time).


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