The greatest gift that I possess

Yesterday I was in the crowded canteen at work, and as I walked past someone I caught a snatch of their conversation: "...your general happiness, rate it on a scale of 1 to 10..."

And I grinned because I was thinking, "At least 9½."

Driving in my car

As many of you might remember, I split my working week between two different locations and commute by train to one and by car to the other.

A consequence of this is that I get to drive a new hire car for two days and 280 miles every week, which can be really, really nice. It's less nice when, as last week, you get a Fiat which is very obviously designed for Big People - being a small person, I couldn't get the car seat in the right position and after the first fifty miles or so my lower back starting aching rather a lot every time I put my foot on the clutch. The driving experience overall was quite good - and the first time I've driven a car with a six-speed gearbox - but it's the most physical pain a car has ever caused me, so I was less than happy with it.

This week's hire car turned up last night, and I briefly abandoned my IRC conversation to run outside and check what it was - a Vauxhall Astra. Not too bad; could have been better, but could have been a Fiat. I can cope with Astras.

Driving so many hire cars has at least instilled in me the urge to check wing- and rear-view mirrors, controls, and seat positions every time I get into a car. The first time I had a Peugeot 206 estate I spent five minutes searching for the wing-mirror adjusters - silly me; I mean, putting them down behind the handbrake is obvioulsy where you'd think to look.

This morning I climbed into the Astra and had a quick glance over the controls. It was at this point that I discovered that the car had an automatic gearbox, which I don't think I've ever even seen before, let alone driven. This prompted a quick rush inside to drag out my mum, who hasn't driven an automatic since the 1970s, and she gave me a quick crash course in how it works.

Fears slightly allayed, I set off.

I think the worst point was the first T-junction I came to - I was alert enough that I didn't attempt to go for the clutch and the gear lever, but as I braked my mind started panicking that the car was going to stall horribly. I got over this after the first few miles by forcing myself to imagine the car as a go-kart, or a dodgem car or similar, with just a Stop pedal and a Go pedal. I still don't know how to control the revs properly with only a pedal - as I joined a busy A-road this afternoon and accelerated to their speed, the revs just climbed up and up to over 5000rpm before it changed gear for me.

Ah well, tomorrow should go more smoothly. Provided I can stop cursing the car quite so much.