Dear Diary,
As a member of the GPS generation, I have a terrible sense of direction. Each time I navigate myself home unassisted therefore becomes a moment of great pride for me. This morning I drove myself home 45 minutes from my apartment in Detroit, unassisted. This particular expedition should not be such a point of pride for me, as I’ve seen this route countless times from the passenger seat, but I can’t help it. There is something wonderful about absent-mindedly driving home.
This time last year, I was solely comfortable driving in my city and its immediate surroundings. I had barely driven on the highway since my road test years earlier. This year, remaining in my comfort zone was simply not possible, so I pushed through my fear and drove on the highway many, many times. I’ve since discovered I’m not half bad at driving, and on a mildly warm mid-morning past rush hour, I can even enjoy doing it. Instead of focusing on boring things, like the impending doom that seeps in any time I operate a large vehicle, this morning I focused on the road before me. And my music. I rolled my windows down (this time by choice, not by necessity – my car has no A/C) and blasted my unfinished transitory fall playlist. This was a borderline cathartic experience. I set my heart on finishing that playlist as soon as I got home.
It’s unusual that I drive home on a Monday. This time, it was due to a frenzied rush out the door last night, which ended with an unintentional abandonment of my precious laptop. In an unexpected way, I’m pretty glad I forgot it and had to come retrieve it. Somehow, driving home – an experience that used to perturb me entirely – became the highlight of my day. Well, maybe the second-brightest highlight to the pizza I had for lunch. Anyway, I can conclusively say that this summer was one of growth, courage, and maturity, as summer should be.
Today marks one week until my third year of college. Here’s to more growth, less fear, and an equal amount of life-changing-ly good music.
Sophie
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