Driving last night was fun. All except the point where I was accidentally in fifth gear and the bastard nearly stalled. My exam is in less than three weeks, and last night was the first time I thought I might pass it. And strangely, or strangely to me, anyways, my incredibly bad mood made me a better driver, or at least made me feel like a better driver. Speedier after intersections. Less veery. Also there was a big electrical spring storm, lightening all over the place, rolling thunder - and somehow that helped too.
Quite a lovely spring here. Up until the big storm last night, very sunny and warm, everything getting green and flowery at once. The young men are all full of stares and lust and jissom. I wonder how it will feel in ten years or so when I'm invisible to that sort of thing. I swing between thinking it will be fucking awesome, and that it will bring on some sort of existential crisis. But you know what, there are worse things than existential crises.
Speaking of worse things, I'm being confrontational this afternoon, which I must go through before we go on vacation in Bordeaux. Maybe if I'm confrontational enough it will be an eight-month pogey vacation. Cross your fingers for me. The last week or so has demonstrated to me that I need to work on my confrontationality a little more. Fuck, you can pay through the nose for years of fucking analysis but it's just in one ear and out the other with me; we were talking about my confrontational inabilities four fucking years ago.