I can't drive at the moment.
It isn't that I have been banned or anything dramatic like that. The fact is that I recently had a small surgical procedure - intended to ensure that I will never be one of those old ladies that smell faintly of urine - and as a consequence am not allowed to climb behind the wheel of my little tank until I can "perform an emergency stop".
How one is supposed to establish than one can once again perform said emergency stop, without putting back onto the horizon the prospect of drifting through old age accompanied by Hint de Eau de Bus-Shelter, isn't addressed in the any of the plethora of poorly photocopied, contradictory and frankly scary information sheets that were thrust into my hand by the nurse at the pre-op assessment.
Should I sit in my armchair, indulge in a solo rendition of The Wheels on the Bus and pretend to take a spin round the skid pan at Brands Hatch? Perhaps I should go out and attempt to double-dig the garden. Or borrow a particularly large dog, take it for a long walk through a field brim full of nice juicy rabbits, then hang on to its lead and hope...
Hmm...
I think I'll just practice on the Dyson. Downstairs only though; I'm not allowed to lift either.
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