Watch out, world!

I passed my driving test today. It was, without question, the most nerve-wracking and sweat-inducing hour of my life. The examiner was a cross between Genghis Khan (for attitude) and Christian Slater (for looks) with all the friendly charm of Margaret Thatcher and a control of English equalled only by Rab C. Nesbitt. He also seemed to have rounded up every elderly, blind, drunk or disturbed driver in the city and positioned them on the route in front of me.
Having a stranger sit in judgement while you attempt to prove you can do something that has left you baffled for months is awful, especially when your knowledge of the Highway Code seems to wander away from you like a fox from a beagle. You can understand why I started the engine a bit shakily.
I'm so glad it's over. I can't remember the last time I was this relieved to have put something behind me. Even the weigh-in at work was a doddle compared to today.
Once I recover from the horror of the test itself, I'm sure I'll be joyous at the achievement, and looking forward to the road-based wonders that now lie before me. You know the sort of thing - suicidal cyclists who cut you up on the road and then sue you, egomaniacal teenage cops with speed guns who hide round country corners after closing time, and those ancient, near-blind pensioners who think the numbers on speed limit signs represent millimetres per decade.
Congratulations me, eh?

RC 16-7-09