Tuesday, November 26, 2002

My father’s truck is busted, so he’s borrowing my car. That means my mom and I are sharing her car. Her brand new car. The one she doesn’t let anyone drive…ever. Yeah, that one. So I’m driving home from school today, being unusually alert and careful when this guy coming towards me, in a sports car, decides to pass the slow moving farm vehicle in front of him. The problem, of course, is that the guy didn’t look to see if the road was clear before he decided to pass. So, he pops out into my lane, causing me to slam on my brakes. He hears the squeal, and jerks back into his lane as quickly as possible. In the meantime, my tires are skidding on the gravel, pulling me towards the ditch. I've got two tires off the road before I can stop fully. Something quite similar apparently happened to him. As soon as I gained control of my vehicle, I looked back, the guy was pulling himself out of the ditch. As soon as he did, he drove off as fast as he could, apparently hoping I wouldn’t see him.

Well, there’s no damage to the car or anything. I didn’t exactly go into the ditch, though I was half off the road. It’s damn lucky I was only driving like 40mph to start. Had I gotten into a wreck in my mother’s car, I never would have heard the end of it, even if it wasn’t at all my fault. I’m debating whether or not I should tell her about the incident. Good sense tells me no, just don’t bring it up – nothing’s been harmed so why give her cause to worry? My shaken up, needing to share my battle scars side, tells me, go on, tell her, nothing’s broken so why would she worry?

I should be reading my German History textbook. But I just can’t bring myself to it. I’ve half convinced myself that everything I’ve learned in that class is probably just propaganda anyway, so I’m having a hard time reconciling myself to be serious and diligent in seeing that my work gets done in spite of the fact. And yet, as I was explaining today to someone who asked why I'd do an extra credit report in a class I'm ranked number two in, I want to go to law school. And I want to go to a good one. So having a B, even if it's the second highest grade in the class, is not good enough. I need an A. And as such, I'll do the extra credit, and any second now, I'll dislodge myself from this computer and start doing my Germany History readings too.

Life was easier when I didn't have to give a damn about my future. Selah.