A very long time ago, I was a young teenage fangirl. I loved the 1980’s: the hair styles, the boy bands, the drainpipe jeans, the movies and Yes! Of course….the cars.
How exciting, then, to hear that the new Mad Max movie had been released last week! My weekend ear-worm became Tina Turner’s anthem for Max and all bruised egos: “What’s Love Got To Do With It?”
Speaking of which…Heh.
I received my written feedback from driving at Road Atlanta. It seems my recent instructors’ consensus is I am a barely passable driver. Don’t say I didn’t warn you bro! Since I’m not very good, I can see why some might discreetly avoid me. Writing this out, it seems ridiculously obvious. Who doesn’t want to back a winner? Right?
But my persisting delusional, relentless, good-natured optimism had clouded my vision a bit, so I didn’t get the hint. Oh well. Conditionality has never been my thing. Miraculously, I have friends who are willing to try to help me learn and support me. My driving can improve. If I continue to work on it.
As part of a one-two sucker-punch special combo, I realized this blog is a source of distress to those dearest to me. Perhaps it’s time to close this chronicle.
Out of our group who began DE’s fourteen months ago and among those with comparable seat time, I was progressing steadily. Slower than some, but stronger than others. Yet Swami and SCDon are straight shooters and I can take what they say to the bank. Does it make sense to continue?
I asked three of my instructors if I should give up entirely. One did not reply. (Assumably code for: “Get away from me you crazy hag. You’re gonna kill someone and I’ll never instruct you again.”) The other two said: “Don’t give up!” and “You can do it. Just keep trying.” Both offered to instruct me again. Sure, they were being kind, but neither one is a liar. I believe them.
I suppose the people to whom I owe my deepest apology are my sweet hubby and kids. I have taken what was rightfully theirs, and sunk it into nothingness. Yet they have remained my strongest allies: especially Cufflinks. Who graduates from high school this week.
I’ll be at track in the end of May: too late to get my money back on that now.
There is still time to recover fiscally from this year. I could cancel all events after June. If I sell Bianca, we can get the entire landscaping project at the new house taken care of in one fell swoop. Not to mention providing the bonus schadenfreude for some. I know it’s true, no hard feelings.
I’m learning that having heart is not enough. Besides, mine is almost broken. And, barring an unexpectedly bizarre menopausal trajectory, I will never “grow a pair”.
Which I am very thankful for.
Here is what matters most right now: If I give up, what will that say to my children?
4 thoughts on “There’s A Phrase That Fits”
Makes me sad, like when the Dodgers left Brooklyn.
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Tom, me too. I’ll decide after June. But in the meantime, the good news is: It’s okay to end a sentence with a preposition.
You should know I am always on your side and will support whatever decision you make, but I hope you don’t give up. Go for your dream. I love you.
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Big T there’s something about you that reminds me of that Stevie Wonder song. Thank you.