I hate my car
I ended up getting a nice car. I didn't plan on it. It just happened. It was a good deal, but that didn't mean I needed to get it. It's the nicest car I have ever driven, but I kinda hate it for a bunch of reasons, not the least of which is that I don't like what I assume people think of me in it. I don't like what it implies. I should have listened to my gut. It makes me feel like a douchebag and I'm embarrassed to be driving it. Which I suppose is both a reflection of how I feel about myself (not great on most days) and how I judge others who drive the same or similar cars, which is stupid. But all of that aside, it lacks features my last few cars had as standard features and I unfortunately found out after I took possession. It was an extrmeely tough and costly lesson for me to learn and I'm filled with resentment and anger at myself for not being more thorough. It's so unlike me that it actually scares me. Like maybe something is wrong with me––legitimately wrong. Every time I drive it, I think about totaling it on purpose just to get out of it. I don't want to hurt myself or anyone else. I just don't want the car and there's nothing I can really do about that right now without incurring a large expense. There are certainly worse mistakes, but this one still feels pretty bad. I feel like a total asshole for even writing about this. Ugh.