I really fucking hate myself.
I had my driving exam today, and I failed both times I attempted it.
The first was because I didn't do a full stop at a red light before I made a right turn, and instead slowed down before I did it—which is technically illegal, and so she failed me for that.
The second was because I was driving on a residential road, and there were two cars driving in the opposite lane, and a car parked to the right of me—leading to the path becoming incredibly narrow. Still, it was obvious the cars in the opposite lane wanted me to go, and so I misjudged the width of the car by a slight amount and lightly tapped my right-side view mirror on the parked car.
How utterly dreadful. How utterly shameful.
Ah, but whatever! The entire reason we have driving tests is to keep subhumans like me off the fucking road to begin with, riiiight?
People with such low-IQ to the point where they can't comprehend basic things like the width of the very car they're driving—or to have the capacity to remember such a simple rule. There are sixteen-year-olds out there who easily pass on their first try without a single issue. But that's intrinsic to them, they aren't as asinine as I.
My dullness is endemic to who I am—determined when I was born. I'll always be the blundering dolt who walks in with his hideous face, short stature, bland black eyes, irritatingly curly black hair, and the ineptitude of an eighteen-year-old who is destined to fail his test again and again.
Mm, yeah, I didn't deserve to pass, anyway. It was only right that I failed. This was the only way it should have ended.
I had my driving exam today, and I failed both times I attempted it.
The first was because I didn't do a full stop at a red light before I made a right turn, and instead slowed down before I did it—which is technically illegal, and so she failed me for that.
The second was because I was driving on a residential road, and there were two cars driving in the opposite lane, and a car parked to the right of me—leading to the path becoming incredibly narrow. Still, it was obvious the cars in the opposite lane wanted me to go, and so I misjudged the width of the car by a slight amount and lightly tapped my right-side view mirror on the parked car.
How utterly dreadful. How utterly shameful.
Ah, but whatever! The entire reason we have driving tests is to keep subhumans like me off the fucking road to begin with, riiiight?
People with such low-IQ to the point where they can't comprehend basic things like the width of the very car they're driving—or to have the capacity to remember such a simple rule. There are sixteen-year-olds out there who easily pass on their first try without a single issue. But that's intrinsic to them, they aren't as asinine as I.
My dullness is endemic to who I am—determined when I was born. I'll always be the blundering dolt who walks in with his hideous face, short stature, bland black eyes, irritatingly curly black hair, and the ineptitude of an eighteen-year-old who is destined to fail his test again and again.
Mm, yeah, I didn't deserve to pass, anyway. It was only right that I failed. This was the only way it should have ended.
