My day started out well enough; I took the remaining two lessons from my driving school package prior to my road test at two p.m. After a shaky ninety minutes, I waited another ninety minutes to be driven to the road test site in Astoria, Queens.
The sky turned gray and the rain drops fell as I sat behind the wheel, prepared to pass my road test. I knew as soon as I signed my shaky signature on the evaluation sheet, I was done.
I didn’t signal when turning into the lane and I frakked up my parallel parking (which I had practiced that morning like five times!) and then I didn’t signal a few more times at the end. The inspector told me I failed and I stepped out of the car, head down in disappointment. My driving instructor was so wrapped up in his possible claim to fame of being cast on a reality television show about bad drivers that I received absolutely no consoling or pep talk for the next time. I wanted to cry.
When we returned to the driving school, I immediately rescheduled a road test and scanned my brain for anyone I knew that owned a car. Not many but I’ll make do.
I walked home slowly, trying to take in the sunshine; I even shared a smile with a guy as I walked home. He returned the smile and tried to “holla” at me but I kept walking.
When I finally reached my apartment, I wrote down how I was in a state of impotence. I tacked on everything that wasn’t going right in my life to my failed road test: rejections from MFA programs, how many people were following me on Twitter (like that really counted right now but when you’re in a funk, you bring it all in), keeping up with my blog, not writing enough, not reading enough, and the emotional turmoil I’ve been in the past few months. All of this had me in the worst head space imaginable.
My brother called and some of that space cleared. I needed to hear: “Yeah, you failed but you’re driving! You’ll do better next time!” which he provided and just like that, the fog had cleared.
Soon after, I met up with a friend to watch a free screening of Dinner for Schmucks and I was in a much better place. The film was entertaining enough to forget about the early afternoon but not enough to erase the remnants of my prior head space.
When I came home, I watched the President Obama interview on The View which was the brightest thing I needed to the start of a gloomy day. My inspiration and drive were re-ignited with Obama’s hope for America. Not many people may agree with everything he’s doing with the country presently but for the moment, his words and energy reached me and I was floating in positivity. The universe was talking to me; I was seeking comfort all day after the road test and I received it.
Funny how a television program, movie, quote, or book can change the mood of a person. This is why I write.