I don't like being called "hon" repeatedly by someone I don't know. I don't like being told I don't drive smooth when it's the sticky pedals fault. I don't like answering a stranger's questions about hobbies, interests, school, and life (small talk) when I know they don't really care. I don't like being told what I already know. In other words I really didn't like my drive time today. It was my third, and I had some clown (not a literal clown [duh]) that I'd never even seen before. The kid who drove before me did a pretty bad job I thought, but then I found out the car was a piece. The pedal stuck like a beeee. Well throughout my driving, the instructor kept saying "you're conscientious, but I can tell you haven't had much practice," or "it looks like you pretty much know what you're doing," or "one of these days you'll be a pretty good driver." I know I'm not that bad. I've only been driving for two/three months here, and I fully blame the stupid car for anything I did wrong.
Well I wasn't in a great mood because I was wearing four shirts and it was way too hot for that.
But I do admit I thought it was cool that the instructor "sensed" I was planning on becoming an art major. I like that he could guess that.
This morning at school we had an assembly for history where we listened to Vietnam veterans tell stories. I decided that if there's ever a draft and I'm drafted, I'll be a Conscientus Objector rather than leave the country, in case you wondered.
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Just so you know, it is quite the buttload of work to become a "Conscientus Objector". Plus, that doesn't mean you don't get drafted, you just get a non-combatant role. And it will probably suck. Like poop cleaner or something. I have friends/family in the military.
I don't know what I would do if there were ever a draft. I definatelt don't want to be in the military. But I think my vision is so bad that they wouldn't make me fight anyways. Man, thanks for giving me a bad night thinking about such morose things. Jerk.
My dad told me once if there ever was a draft we would move to Canada. But maybe he was talking crazy
But anyways about the drive time...did this guy have gray hair and a mustache and talked about his kids a lot too. Because he does, then it's Mr.Terry. And I had to drive that car for like three drives times and everytime I would put my foot on the gas it wouldn't go for a second and then my tires would squeal. One time we were getting gas and I opened up the glove box and I found like 3 packs of cigarettes. It was weird.
The guy called me "sport" and "kiddo" too
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