Well, on Tuesday it’s D-Day. Driving Test day. At the grand old age of twenty-seven and a half, I’m finally (hopefully) going to get a driver’s license. Something that most people do when they’re about ten years younger. Ah well, I guess I’m a late bloomer.
To give me every advantage possible, I’m thinking of chasing up friends of friends who are cops and trying to see if they can organise some kind of exclusion zone around the VicRoads South Oakleigh branch on Tuesday. Five kilometres should do it. No, maybe ten just to be safe. I think I’ll pass anyway, but empty roads would definitely be a plus.
As it happens, my driving instructor is pretty confident. Mind you, he’s been very agreeable after the accident. Nah, just kidding, THERE WAS NO ACCIDENT.
So just like for any test, we’ll go through last-minute practice and revision at noon or so on Tuesday, followed by the test at 1:15.
Watch this space on Tuesday arvo for the results… Hmmm…. If I pass, maybe I’ll grab all my friends for the most inappropriate activity possible – a celebratory drink.
The other big thing in my life right now is my wife. L has been slowly expanding over the last eight and a half months, or to be precise, the baby inside her has been slowly expanding, and she’s been making room for him. And while there’s still a week and a half to go until the exact ETA, baby Jeremy could leap out into the waiting world at any time.
Of course, I’m now kind of hoping this doesn’t happen on Tuesday, because I’m all psyched up for the test, but as long as when he gets out that everything runs smoothly, then I’m happy.