I think about driving. I think about it every single day. I think about climbing behind the wheel of a car and turning the key. I think about cruising down Highway 1 with the windows down, and the sea breeze blowing my hair. I want to drive, and like all my friends who don’t drive, I think I’m a good driver. That very thought makes me laugh, and I wonder when and why I have became like my non-driving friends, thinking we have skills with absolutely no practice. We are a pack of idiots.

The other thing I wonder about is why doesn’t the DMV revoke my license. How many forms have my neurologists filed with that bureaucracy? I wonder too what the docs write on the revocation form? “Vistadenada has epilepsy, and turns into the Statue of Liberty at the most inopportune moments. REVOKE her license. ASAP. Do it. Do it now before she reeks havoc.” Perhaps they tack on: “It is a privilege, not a right. I am a doctor. You are not.” The DMV still won’t revoke my license. They won’t revoke it even when I tell them I’m an epileptic. They just look at me over the desk. I stare back. They give me a license that I put in my wallet. It is the great temptation. I’m not good with temptations. To stop myself from the temptation of the license in my wallet, I imagine running over a nun in a crosswalk, habit flying. I imagine splattering a baby in a stroller. I think about hitting a class of third graders on the sidewalk, waiting on a school bus. I imagine child body parts flying like birds up in the sky. “We cannot reattach his ear. You have mutilated school children.”

Then, I think about cake because that is my other greatest temptation, probably greater than driving. I think about white cake with white icing. I think about birthday cake. I think about wedding cake, when done correctly is the best. Done incorrectly, you might as well spit it into your cloth napkin, and walk out the reception hall door. “Your wedding cake was crap, Missy. Get a real baker, not your cousin.”



Filed under epilepsy, food, medical

8 responses to “Driving

  1. Go for the cake, skip the driving. But make sure it’s good cake if you’re going to bow to temptation 🙂

    • Nada

      I will make sure it is good cake for the temptation. Actually someone should name a cake, “Temptation.” I think it would sell very well.

  2. I’m going to make you a cake. Or at least some cupcakes. Need to update my blog anyway.

  3. AZ

    Ya wanna know what killed the joy of driving for me? Significant Other did. Something about a man, he feels the need to instruct every minute a woman is behind the wheel, rather than go through that I just gave up the reigns, and let him do all the driving. In the last couple of years I’ve noticed him running into curbs, parking crooked, stopping for solid green lights, but do I instruct? You bet your ass I do. My most used phrase is “what the hell was that move all about?”

    As for cake, I can take it or I can take it. 🙂

    • Nada

      LOL! on Significant other and the driving. I give instructions while my SO is driving too, but mostly screaming when he does some crazy crap, like almost hitting parked cars. It’s a park car, for pete’s sake. It’s not like it made some weird move.

  4. All you need to do is drive on an Autobahn when truck and car traffic is heavy. It’s a great cure for the urge to drive.

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