First Day

The wind keeps rocking the car back and forth and I can’t help but tighten my hands on the wheel. I can hear the sound of it whipping by, a howl every now and then. Imagine if it was so windy my entire car moved, shoved across lanes. That’d be crazy. I say it out loud and then laugh. I can’t help but talk to myself, peeking at the cars that go by like they can hear me. The speed limit is a hundred and ten on this section of the freeway, but I’m here in the left lane going a hundred and avoiding eye contact with the other cars.

Another gust of wind rattles the car and it shuts me up. My hands are all sweaty, slipping where I grip the steering wheel too hard. It’s a habit I’ll have to unlearn, like the way I chew the inside of my lip. Just makes me more nervous. And I can’t be nervous, big day coming up. Places I’ve never driven before, colleagues I’m yet to meet. All new, new, new.

It’s odd, the way my car has become a friend to me. I talk to it, sing to it, say hello and goodbye. You’re such a weirdo. I say that out loud too. Car doesn’t respond, obviously. I know it’s against the rules, but I’ve plugged my phone in anyway; the maps are my lifeline and when I’m not talking to my car, I need to be belting out songs. I turn up the music over the winds’ howling. Outside, the sky is one exact shade of blue: all blank, no clouds. Can’t even see the sun but it’s shining from behind all the trees, light peeking out from somewhere. More wind. I see the cars in front of me sway, teeter, readjust. The steering wheel twitches in my hands and I try to loosen my grip.

For a moment, I think about the day that awaits – what are my new co-workers going to be like? Am I going to embarrass myself? How am I going to get home from this place I’ve never been before – far from home with a license I’ve had for barely a month. I guess this is what it’s like to be an adult now, I say to my car. It can’t hear me over the k-pop I’m blasting and the winds’ screeching. Don’t think about work, just focus on not being blown away.

My maps chirp at me that I’m almost there. Again, my slimy hands squeeze the steering wheel, and I try to keep ignoring the way my heart is thumping in my chest, oddly loud and slow. One more right turn and I’m there. How will my wobbly legs make it out of the car? I make the turn. I ignore the way I park badly and switch the engine off. Silence – the kind where your ears start buzzing, all fuzzy like. I take a deep breath and open my door, but the wind catches and snatches it out of my reach. Hello, it says, I’m still here! The door slams into the car next to me with a thud and I immediately pull it back, eyes squeezing shut.

Things are not off to a good start.