Resentment Issues

Last week I mentioned that I had resentment about this Camaro.  I purposely did not write about them at the moment, because I was feeling pretty hotheaded and the resentment  felt very fresh again.  I figured it was better to simmer down first and then vent about this issue.

I don't know if the extra time will benefit my message today, or not.  Probably not.

Last week I "got" to drive the Camaro while my Durango was in the shop.  Lucky for me it was nice weather, so I could have the top down, as this is the only way for me to see out of this car.  In bad weather it feels like trying to maneuver a submarine...with just one little porthole window out the back.  Lucky for me we have an "extra" vehicle so I wasn't without wheels while the shop kept mine.  And lucky for me, the Camaro is a 6-speed stick--which is always more fun to drive, especially with that little more powerful motor behind the shifting clutch.

So, lucky me...what is my problem?!

Here's the deal.  I really don't like this car.  Genius Golfer bought it new in 1998 in California following a wreck of our traditional family car, which at the time was a four door purple Ford Taurus.  In my heart of hearts, I think he was really glad to be done with that purple Taurus.  But with two little kids, the Taurus was a good vehicle for us.  Plus my parents had found it on a good deal too, so we should have just been happy with it.

When he bought it, I don't recall having much input...like none.  He was so excited about it, there wasn't much I could have said anyways.  Besides, my unofficial role in this family is "Dream Killer".  Even if I pointed out things that would make this car a difficult-to-use-well choice, he wasn't going to want to hear them.  Things like:  It's a convertible, and we live where it snows for four or five months a year.  It is rear-wheel drive, and we live where the snow can accumulate on the roads throughout the winter.  It technically has four seats, but the back two seats are made for leg-less midgets and we are four full-legged, full-size (and plus some) humans.

Now for many years GG drove it to work, so it wasn't a big deal.  He knew it's limitations and worked around them.  There were only a very few times when it was snowing too badly that he swapped me cars for the day--meaning I didn't leave the house and he took my 4 wheel drive car to work.  But that didn't happen very often.  His golf clubs fit nicely in the trunk and he didn't have a problem seeing out the pothole window with the top up.  And I, happily, had something else to drive.

Well, since summer of 2008 when we picked up the little smug CNG Honda Civic, the Camaro stays parked in the garage--it's own garage--surrounded with tools and equipment and golfing stuff and more tools.  It's garage is so full of stuff that some of it now seems to be spilling into the big garage where two other cars rest, as well as a bike in the summer, and the freezers and water storage barrels.  I hate the idea of turning into a storage unit, where there is no room for a vehicle.  I know many families use their garage for just that but I won't.  A car lives in it's garage.  Stuff needs to be put away, where it belongs.  So I have some building resentment about this hunk of metal taking up the space in the garage where otherwise all the stuff spilling into the main garage should actually go.

Driving the Camaro last week, while it was kind of fun to feel the wind in my hair, and the sun on my face (also sunburning my neck in the process) I can't enjoy it enough to ever want to really drive the car.  In fact, the biggest resentment I feel about it is that the Camaro--bright fire engine red and topless--seems so ostentatious to me.  It screams "LOOK AT ME!"  And I guess I don't like that kind of attention.  Maybe if I had big, fake 80s hair and/or huge plastic boobs and dressed like a hoochie-mama that kind of attention would be right up my alley.  But it isn't me, and I guess I resent feeling that is the kind of person who would drive a car like this.

There is no solution to this issue for me.  We'll have the Camaro for some time.  In fact, The Boy believes he will drive it someday.  Uh, NOT!  But until GG is gone or I am gone the Camaro will likely still rest in it's own garage and demand undue attention. 

At least, this is cheaper than talking it out with a therapist.  And the solution is essentially the same.  Thanks for listening.  I'll call again when I need to reschedule another appointment, doctor.