My last couple of weeks have been focused around one not so pleasurable event: my driving theory test. I know, I know, who on Earth who’s my age still does not have their driver’s licence? Well, me, for one.
The test itself is stressful enough, but studying from a rotten piece of trash makes everything worse. I don’t learn by heart, I need to understand. But my theory book is, or more correctly was, the biggest, most horrendous garbage of a book I have ever come across. Apart from the poor translation, which I can read through, there is almost no logic in the sentence structure. Arguments fail to argue either for or against anything. When one argument somehow manages to do what it’s supposed to, it is used more than once for conflicting situations. The authors of this junk of a manual probably do not understand traffic rules themselves; they may know what to do, but have no idea why.
Now I love books. I keep them safe and treat them well, even when I’m rereading them for the fourth time. But this is not a book. It’s bound shiny toilet paper with pictures. But since I doubt it would have been effective as said sanitary item, I declared that, once my exam was successfully behind me, I would burn the bastard to ashes.
So I did. Ceremoniously too. I tore it up and set it on fire. Then my husband and I toasted its return to hell where it must have come from. And so I felt avenged (sevenfold, haha!) for all the time I have wasted trying to make any sense come out of it. Because in the end, it was an online test simulator that helped me learn what I needed to know, not that waste of paper. I cannot stress this enough, if it isn’t already clear, that manual is a disgrace to publishing, to logic, to common sense, to basic human intelligence. It got what it deserved and I hope more of its twins will suffer the same fate.