Drive My Car
For a long time I felt like an invalid. I had to seek help to perform even the simplest of tasks because of my broken arm. When I moved home it only worsened because I was stuck in suburbia without a method of transportation. A huge chunk of the independence I am so proud of was robbed from me when I fell on the ice three months ago. Only to then move home and rely on my parents again to drive me around like I’m 16.
It was awful. Awful!
But after getting approval from my surgeon, updating my licence, getting my previous car put back under my name, registered and insured (phew!)… I had freedom.
I’ve mentioned before how much I hate public transportation. There is something about being in control of a car that I love. A smooth road, an open window, and music blaring as high as the stereo will go. I sing along carefree of course.
And go the speed limit. Of course.
Driving with my injured arm isn’t so bad. A little tricky to make sharp turns and a little slower pulling into traffic, but nothing I can’t handle.
Goodbye suburbia. Hello independence. It’s nice to have you back.
This blog post was not sponsored by Ford.