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31-DAY CHALLENGE
Day Twenty-Six: Your Guiltiest Pleasure
Chocolate cupcakes were a close second.
Some call it a luxury, while others believe it’s a necessity, but when I think about my guiltiest pleasure, I’d say, hands down, it’s my car. Each day, my husband, Ed, hops on public transit among the bedbug-infested/Covid-infected riders, not to mention the crime that abounds on buses and subways. All these horrors jeopardize his health and safety. But not me. As I drive around adjusting the temperature gauge on the dashboard while listening to tunes, I recognize how fortunate I am. But that doesn’t mean my mode of transportation doesn’t give me a sense of guilt.
It’s our sex spot, shopping bag carrier, vet taxi, and transport to family gatherings. My car’s my security. It’s my safe place. I flee to it to escape awkward situations. My automobile’s my home away from home.
There were many years I lived without a car. It wasn’t by choice but by circumstance. I dealt with a lot of loss — being car-less made the list. I spent years riding subways and using taxis, but mainly, I chose not to go out. A car calms my anxiety because I’m in the driver’s seat — realistically and metaphorically, so when I finally got a new one, my life turned right-side up.
