See, now I had to up and complain about my lack of post material. It was not without consequence. It seems the Universe decided to remind me that one should be careful what one wishes for. My car, it is ailing.
I'm parked in the underground garage at home. When I went out there this morning to leave for work, I found that my car wouldn't start. My first reaction was that the battery must be dead. Not so big a deal. Happens all the time. Happened, in fact, not a month ago (in a rather unfortunate series of events which culminated in the visitor's lot of a medium security prison in Fairbault, and which I am not at liberty to disclose). I leave lights on. I leave doors open. I sit listeneing to the radio too long. I am a moron. But a dead battery is an easy fix, at least when you're not parked in your underground garage, surrounded by adjacent spots filled with cars and nose in towards the cement walls.
Upon further consideration, however, I've decided that the battery (unfortunately) is not to blame here. You see...I still had headlights which came on automatically when I turned the key, and the lights on the dash panel were blinking in tune with the sputtering engine, apparently to alert me to the fact that there is something horribly wrong. MAYDAY! they blinked. ET PHONE HOME! Then I remembered that the car has been a bit sluggish starting this week. At the time, I blamed the cold - the ungodly cold - for causing the car to sputter a bit before coming to life. But I did mark the behavior in my memory as a bit odd, and was going to have a stern talking to my car on the subject. Anyhow, now I'm thinking that there is something wrong with the starter. Or GOD FORBID the alternator, although in my experience with shitty alternators, they generally don't leave enough juice for the lights or power to work.
Thus, I am left with the job of Vehicle Wrangler after work. This involves driving Gray's truck home (we work for the same employer), pulling it into one of the adjacent underground spots (that is, IF said adjacent spots are then vacant), trying to jump start the battery, moving Gray's truck before adjacent spot occupant returns, driving my ailing car to the closest shop to be inspected and repaired, walking back to the apartment (did I mention it's cold?), and taking Gray's truck to pick him up at work. Assuming my car is repaired tonight, then we'll have to drive up there and get it. Which unfortunately involves paying for the repairs. Oh god I hope it's just the battery.
Worst case scenario is that I'm not able to get it running with the jumper cables. Because then...well, that would involve more pushing of a car in neutral than I care to think about. The pushing would culminate in one final hoorah of pushing, because the parking garage is UNDER ground, which means there's a rather steep driveway down into the garage. A rather steep driveway we would have to push the car up. Because a tow truck, it will not fit in the underground garage. This worst case scenario also involves me dying, because I'd rather do that than push my car that far.
So while this certainly doesn't classify as riveting blog fodder (I've always wanted to use that word!), I'm afraid the Universe has made it's point. I am not to complain about the lack of excitement in my life. The Universe has declared itself happy to provide me with unpleasant and expensive alternatives to my normal routine. If I continue on this path, the Universe has additional options involving loss of limbs, headache or nose bleeds, grease fires, etc.
The killer here is that I planned to finish my algebra homework tonight. And that I'd actually prefer my algebra homework to the vehicle wrangling. And now I have to finish my algebra homework when I should be in bed, also knowing that my bank account is hemorrhaging, courtesy of the new alternator the Universe has so kindly bestowed upon me. Serves me fucking right.