The withdrawal symptoms are particularly strong today.
It’s been over two months since I’ve sold the ND Miata and went car-less, and overall it’s going great. The amount of podcasts I’ve been able to listen to on buses and trains is stacking up quite nicely, which makes me wonder why I didn’t listen to podcasts in the car back when I drove all those years.
And some days I really miss the driving, especially the sheer sensation from piloting a proper sports car. Playing Assetto Corsa on the simulator makes for a convincing and fun facsimile, but there’s no replacement for the G-forces exerting on the body and the wondrous smells of machinery assaulting the nose.
There’s also the singular joy of taking in a car’s design language when it’s parked stationary, as if it’s a museum showpiece. Particularly early weekends with a fresh mug of coffee; those are the best.
I’ve still got some 10 months to go before I can safely plop down the money for whichever 911 GT3 should present itself as a suitable dance partner. The discipline that’s being required of me to be patient is immense, especially since I can at anytime forsake the Porsche and buy any one of a myriad of sports cars (the Shelby GT350 I mentioned yesterday) and be done with it.
That would be the easy way out, and I probably wouldn't feel good after the novelty wears off.
It's truly 911 or bust.
The campus is a veritable jungle.