I am a mess in the car.
A total, all-out, spazz tard of immeasurable proportions.
When other people are driving, that is.
I was not always like this. I have always been a little nervous, but not "keep your eyes closed the whole time and don't even breathe because we're all going to die" kind of nervous.
Then my husband came along.
To be fair, he has never done anything to put me in danger or injure me in a vehicle. He just has this thing where he would rather be dead and right than alive and worry that other not fully understand their idiocy.
I don't want to die because that person is an idiot.
When someone comes into his lane, he won't move because it's "his lane" and they're the idiot. If someone cuts him off, he'll do it right back.
Yes, they are stupid, bad drivers. I JUST DON'T WANT TO DIE TODAY.
I also have terrible depth perception. When I'm not the driver, I always think cars are way closer than they are.
To be clear, my husband is a way better driver than I am or will ever be. I am female, after all. I would just like to get out of the car once or twice without feeling like I'm on the verge of a panic attack? Is that so much to ask.
The problem is that when he does the grand, sweeping motions of aggressive driving, I tense up and freak the fuck out, and then he thinks everything is cool and over. Nope. I'm going to be agitated and irritable for a while.
I can't control my anxiety, but you can control your road rage. Otherwise, you get bitchy wife for a minute or ten up until in relaxed enough to let her go away. Don't like it? Don't scare the shit out of me on the regular.
As always, it's hip to be square (and not dead!), kids.