Further (Mis)Adventures in the Irish Driving Test
To prepare for my driving test today, I spent yesterday evening getting ready. I picked out my clothes. I ran 3 miles and lifted weights. I cleaned my car. I read "The Rules of the Road" from cover-to-cover while soaking in a nice hot bubble bath. I took some Rescue Remedy. I slept great, no anxiety dreams.
When I woke up this morning, I knew I was Ready. Last Friday, I finally broke my streak of bad driving and passed a practise exam. I was so ready. Calm. Relaxed. Very unlike myself, quite frankly.
I had a fortifying breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast and then went back to the bedroom to get dressed. My phone showed I'd missed a call, so I rang my voicemail messages.
A nice man from the RSA (Road Safety Authority) was ringing to tell me that my test was canceled because the tester was sick and they'd no one to cover for him. I cannot even begin to tell you how frustrating this is. I feel like I've wasted a precious vacation day for absolutely nothing. This feels as bad as failing, in some ways. Because it means I have to do it all again and I have to continue to make the 80-mile roundtrip out to Skibbereen for lessons.
I just want to be done with this. And I don't know when my next test is going to be. The nice man at the RSA told me I was at the top of the cancellation list, but I frankly have no faith in their processes and will be ringing him back in two weeks if I haven't heard anything.