Depressed, Nostalgia, Pathetic

Me: In Cars

Instead of discussing the New Orleans style flood of emotions that has occured upon coming back to Maine – a place I’ve hated my whole life – to realize that it is simultaniously as beautiful as everyone says it is and as horrible as I always said it was, instead of discussing the fact that the familiar water pressure of my childhood shower nearly brought me to tears, instead of discussing how free food and Tivo is making me rethink every decision I’ve made in life, I will be discussing why I don’t like to drive.

Driving is boring.

I love how in New York no transportation is wasted. I get on the subway only to write, read, and occasionaly masturbate. I can do none of those things while driving. Driving takes up the entirety of my energy. I have to stare at a road and hope that my destination comes quickly. In the car I had in high school I could adjust the display so that it would show how many miles per gallon I was getting at each second. I used to turn that on and then try to be the most efficent driver I could be. The problem occurs when you crash because you are paying attention to a small digitally displayed number as opposed to the road.

$3000 is the amount I’ve lost because of speeding tickets and cars I’ve crashed. That is about 10 times the amount of money in my bank account. Being back in Maine frightens me because most of this money was spent here as I would drive 80 mph on roads I knew well at 2am where the only other car out was the cop who pulled me over. This is why I moved to New York – so that I wouldn’t have to drive anymore.

I hate driving.

I also hate crying in the shower because the water pressure reminds me of waking up for high school, but I do it anyway.

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