Well I had another driving lesson last night and it did not go well. I was in a new area, it was very dark and a little wet and I was quite tired and so it is probably not very surprising, when you consider how little confidence I have behind the wheel, that I panicked often with nearly disastrous consequences. My instructor got annoyed with me and I got annoyed with him and in the end I snapped. The result was kind of cathartic and in my remaining lessons booked with this company I hope things will improve, but I'm considering switching company anyway as I'm clearly a slow learner and it's getting too expensive.
The rest of the evening was better. Eruntane and I had Haggis, Sneeps and Tatties (neeps being parsnips, as there were no neeps) and a little wine as it was Burns Night. Neither of us are Scottish, although we've lived here for quite some time now, so I asked her to pick a poet to toast. Apparently she'd had a bit of a bad day as well, since she picked Phillip Larkin. I wonder if he'd enjoy being toasted, or whether the context would somehow confirm everything he ever believed about life and the human race...
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