Kick Drum Heart


The comfort coffee brings

Finally home: and I guess I didn’t realize it before, but this has to be one of the best feelings in the world. Coming into a house that’s empty of people but filled with coziness and clutter; changing into my most worn-in pair of sweatpants and a thermal; putting up my hair and my feet and blasting the music with a warm cup of black coffee before me. The steaming liquid might be bitter to the taste, but to my weary self it’s oh so sweet.

I’ve checked in with all of my immediate family members: they’re all in their respective, proper niches for this time of day. I’m all alone here, just soaking in the melodies flowing past my ears.

I’m so tired.

I passed my road test today: I officially have my driver’s license. For all of my daydreaming, playing my celebratory Avetts’ CD on the way home and driving around didn’t feel as joyful as I’d expected. The instructor I rode with was extremely competent and not altogether unpleasant. He was a middle-aged, moustached man who was polite and understanding of my overwhelming nerves. I only got ten points on my test: thirty points will fail you. The happiness has only struck at me for a few moments so far. I don’t care if it trickles in slowly or swamps me in a tsunami. I just want to stop being down.

There’s homework, and practicing, and illness. Obligations to my passions, family, friends, and school. I’m exhausted. As Mr. Bett so intriguingly phrased it, I’m running around “like a chicken with it’s head and butt cut off.”

I love to be busy, and when the pressure’s on I normally excel. Failing my road test yesterday was a bitch for me. I’m going to be completely honest: I struggled with humility and hopefulness all day on Thursday and all of that focus on my “feelings” came back to bite me in the ass: I concentrated more on what the instructor thought of me than I did on my driving. Thus, failure.

Luckily I was able to reschedule, and miraculously in Dunkirk there was an opening for today at three. Rush hour Friday traffic ended up being the last concern on my list as I parallel parked, three point turned, and manipulated Mark and Karen’s little red Camry with intensity. I was so damn nervous. The man in the car with me even asked me, as he had me pull over to begin my three point, “I know something’s got to be making you nervous– your heart nearly stopped when I had you pull out back there instead of parking [for my parallel park].”

He was observant, and honest, and kind. He wasn’t a dick. I told him quite truthfully that I had flunked yesterday, and then hurriedly protested that he please shouldn’t count that against me. He told me that he only judged driving based on what he saw, and that I could pass the test today and fail it tomorrow, and that didn’t mean I was a bad driver. He told me that I was doing fine so far, and that although it wasn’t over yet, I was doing just right.

I told him with all sincerity that he was my favorite.

I did pass today, thank God. I am waiting for the thrill to completely set in, but for now I am entirely satisfied listening to Bob Marley serenade me with reggae and sipping my now-lukewarm coffee.