Let Me Hide My Face Now

I am such a freaking typical woman driver. I park in such a way as to take up an entire block, so that no one else can park and strangers leave notes on my windshield reminding me to be more courteous (I guess I should be glad it wasn't a death threat). My deepest apologies go to the little mouse I either hit or gave post-traumatic stress disorder to, but you were in my way and I was feeling mildly aggressive because of DMS (the D is for during, I think you all know the rest). I run red lights like there's no tomorrow (actually, I did it just once, but the honks that suddenly erupted at my side will forever remind me of how incredibly inane I must have looked). Not only that, but my car's terrible for fogging up in any kind of weather, so at any given moment I can be seen wiping furiously at my windows with a brightly-colored cloth, although I have yet to master cleaning off the backseat ones while I'm driving...maybe I should never try to master that one. And I've come to the conclusion that I have the whitest, old-ladiest posture, as I tend to lean far forward and grip the steering wheel with both hands, whilst my neck is sticking out forward like a turkey vulture. I'm thinking I should never plan on driving with any potential future hubbies until I'm sure they love me for who I am.