Driving Lesson from Hell!

I found myself sat in the library again today. Anxiety was in the air on the run up to two of my friends and my girlfriend's sociology exam. It was break time and kids were bustling in and out of the busy book storing area. We were sat, textbooks and revision guides flung open on the table, papers spread out all over the place in the mess of last minute revision. I didn't have an exam, so I was only one of the group who wasn't stressing too badly. I say too badly because I wasn't going for a test, oh no, I was doing something equally as scary; my driving lesson.
Driving lessons seem to be a way of life at the minute, they would be ok if I didn't come back every time feeling as if I had achieved nothing. Nevertheless, I walked to my lesson ready to be humiliated by the shocking lack of talent I had when it came to moving a car. As I took a seat behind the wheel, I greeted my instructor, put the car into first gear and off we went, hopping up and down like a bunny rabbit on drugs. Todays lesson, to cut a long story short, wasn't the best. I got out of the car feeling like I could have done better.
I was disheartened as usual, though I had been through worse.
It was my first driving lesson when my mad life took a turn for the worst. Through my time on Earth, I had never been fully interested in cars and back then I couldn't even tell a gear stick from a clutch, so the opener to my learning experience was the most nerve racking. I opened the car door and sat next to my new driving instructor, she introduced herself as Sally, she was in her late fifties, had short greying hair and a nervous smile. As the lesson started she took me through what each part of the car was and within five minutes we were on the open road. This would have been all very well, if the open road wasn't full of busy cars trying to get through their day to day life without distraction of a spanking brand new learner to get in their way.
From friends comments I had assumed that I would be driving down back alleys and deserted streets so to get the hang of things, but not with Sally. Oh no. We hit it off on the biggest dual-carrageway in Derby, the A38.
I screamed as I soared down the lane, on the road to nowhere. The car was going at 60mph and I hadn't even been at 30! I was going to die, this could never end well, that's when Sally told me to turn left at the round about. Bloody round about? What the hell is that? Flicking the signal stick down, I found myself spinning around a corner at such a pace that would make any roller-coaster fan buzz with adrenaline... another reason why I was going to die; I hate roller-coasters!
Somehow I made it to the end of that lesson, but as I stood up my clothes were drenched in my own sweat. I had perspired enough to fill a bath.
These days, I don't tend to drive as reckless. I'm still mastering the basics but one day, one day I will be out there with the big leagues like my Mum and Dad... (basically I'll be able to move a car and not be at risk of killing somebody)
Until then, I will keep surviving as my mad life unfolds, whatever could be in store next?
The lesson of todays blog is... never go on a dual-carrageway on your first lesson. HEAR THAT DRIVING INSTRUCTORS?!