A couple days ago I noted a delay in action when I turned the key in my car's ignition. Hmm. Odd. Over the course of two days, it became progressively worse, and Friday I was compelled to admit either the starter, alternator or battery had gone all wobbly.
I don't know why, but the week after a long holiday weekend usually feels pretty grueling to me. Maybe I rush around to fit in too much activity or something, but I felt really wrung out and was so looking forward to Friday. Instead of thoughts of a carefree weekend, however, late Friday afternoon found me crossing my fingers as I turned the moody, sputtering ignition which finally cranked to life and hied me to WalMart where a lady mechanic dropped a new battery under the hood. I then went to another place to have the alternator checked, but didn't get a definitive answer on how that is.
The battery got me home, and I expect will get me to the dealership early Saturday morning. Instead of sleeping in Saturday, I now fear oversleeping and being too late to have repairs done if they are necessary. I admit by Friday evening I was feeling a little blue over the whole thing.
Life is good and things are going well, but I am forced to admit that a great deal of my sense of well-being is intrinsically tied to my ability to get myself around, and having to ask for help, for a ride, can be frustrating. I really do appreciate that there are some great folks supporting me- both back in Dallas with car advice and here in town, having given me a ride at desperate moments. (oh yeah, I lost my keys one day a few weeks back). I think of the miles I drive to work in about 30 minutes each morning but which would have taken more like 2 hours to drive in Dallas. I pass more railcars each morning than road cars, and that suits me perfectly. This car is the nicest one I've ever had, and it suits me perfectly, too. I don't aspire to something faster or more flash-- I just want this one to go when I need it to. Don't fence me in, git along little dogies and all that stuff.