Hi, my name is Aimee and I drive a fuel-inefficient SUV. There, I said it. I still feel icky, but it's been my car for six years now, so I should own up to it.
Now I have the chance to change my wicked ways and buy a more fuel-efficient car, but I don't want one. Yup, I said that, too.
You would think that with the oil spill happening and the sheer waste of a larger car that I would welcome an opportunity to do something relatively good for the environment. So why is it so hard to give up my big car?
At home we recycle, reuse, buy locally and organic as much as possible. Somehow on the road I am a different person. I could say that I'm fighting the forces of transportation from bad drivers to orange cones, but really I'm just struggling to concentrate as Barney blares in my ear on the DVD player wedged in between the front seats for the kids in back to see. I honestly consider my car an extension of myself - so what does that make me? I know the answer to that question is looming somewhere overhead in a thick cloud of exhaust.
I had every intention of getting a hybrid vehicle when I started my search last month. And then I learned more about the cars. I had no idea that fuel economy isn't gauged well on the highway, where I spend much of my time. And living in a cold climate doesn't exactly lend itself to a lightweight Prius, though if I were single I wouldn't hesitate. Again, it's the kids.
Something about hauling kids around makes me feel like I'm packing for the Sahara. Each trip to Target requires extra clothes, diapers, sippy cups and snacks. And even then it can be the longest 20 minutes of my life if my toddler is having a screaming fit. I imagine punching the roof out to escape when that happens. I think I could actually accomplish that in a Prius.
I'm all for fuel-efficient, eco-friendly cars. I applaud anyone who has one. Truthfully, I feel a bit trapped inside smaller cars. There's technically plenty of room, but I feel suffocated. You might be wondering what the hell I do in my car that I need so much space, but when I need to spin around to look at my child who's gagging on her snack, it's nice to have the headroom.
So I don't have a good answer to this dilemma. I wish I could drive the way I generally live - consciously and efficiently. I'm thinking this just might be my dark side at work.
