Guilty pleasures

I think of myself as a relatively good person. Or, I feel I could at least adequately quote Mal from Firefly in his "Mercy is the sign of a great man, I guess I'm just a good man...well, I'm allright"-speech when it comes to my actions. I live relatively healthy, I try to be good to my friends and even to strangers I meet and I try to live responsibly and avoid undue stress to the environment because I do believe that we are causing a lot of trouble for ourselves by burning fossile fuels and pretty much attempting to ruin the world around us.

So here's where I fall off the wagon. Though I use public transportation and actually feel that it is the only sensible thing to do when living in Oslo where said public transportation is more than adequate and a lot cheaper than owning a car, I love driving.

I mean: I LOVE DRIVING!

I was going outside Oslo today to interview someone for my masters, and I borrowed 3ff3ct3r's car (which he hardly ever uses by the way) to save time and effort getting out there (changing busses takes a lot of time and it costs extra and I hate busses, my bad excuses are many). I can't explain it. From the moment I sat down behind the wheels, drove out of the garage and got out on the highway I was so happy, so content, so pleased with myself that I actually called aj_stalin hoping that she'd be in Asker so I'd have an excuse to drive just a little bit longer after my interview.

I don't care that I'd be part of the problem, breaking down the environment. I don't care that I can hardly afford food now since I'm a student. I don't care that I can in theory borrow the car more often (because I feel bad every time I do). I WANT A CAR.