Bebe Bleu, my beloved Mazda 3, is back in the driveway, looking shiny and new-ish. The awful, terrible, violence inducing VW is back at the rental agency.
I will say that, after I figured out the head rest and got used to the braking and acceleration, I hated it a little less. This is not love, it's just less virulent hatred. The whole plastic-y, tight, tiny interior, the lack of any space for human legs in the back seats, and the amazing number of blind spots in a car with so much glass were simply staggering. It is not the car for me. I never want to see the inside of one again. I'm not all that jazzed to see the outside, either.
But my Mazda runs just fine. I have new seat covers on order and I need to vacuum the interior to go with the whole "clean and shiny" theme I have going there. but it feels so good to drive my own car. Also, my knee does not bump the steering column. It's all good.