The biggest thing that happened to me during this time was my finally getting around to having driving lessons. For various reasons, that I don’t really need or want to flesh out at the moment, I hated driving when I was seventeen. I moped through a few months of lessons, failed my test twice, then called it a day. And for a very long time, I didn’t need to drive. I have always lived in or near cities with good transport links. You can read when you are travelling by bus or train. I like that.
But I needed to learn to drive.
My first lesson was little more than me starting the car, driving a few yards, then stopping again. I had built up the dread associated with driving to something equal to root canal surgery or writing a personal statement on a job application. It didn’t take long before I was driving like a normal though, and now I have passed my test and everything. Only last week I was muttering to myself at somebody two cars in front of me to, “Get a move on, Grandad!” I’m one of you now. I am a driver.