|Stranded at home, which is not a bad place to be stranded
||[Dec. 3rd, 2006|10:05 pm]
|||||Pulp, "Sorted for E's and Wizz"||]|
To borrow a splaxgna turn-of-phrase, my car, she is dead.
I went down to the garage to leave to meet my mom at the movie theater this afternoon, and when I turned the key, a few irritated sounding clicks came from the electrical area above the glove box, and then nothing. After I tried a few more times, no more clicks: just silence and the slow fading of dashboard lights. My battery is about six weeks old; it sounds like a major electrical system weird-out to me.
The power locks seem to work fine, though, for the first time in months.
Mom was able to swing by and pick me up, so it didn't cut into my Sunday-afternoon movie viewing time (we saw For Your Consideration, which has great funny performances as all the Christopher Guest mockumentary-style movies do, but in a weirdly disjointed plot that didn't satisfy us at all). And it's a good thing that my job doesn't start until Jan. 8, and that I have nothing specific to do tomorrow. AND if I can get it towed out-of-town (barely out-of-town) to Erickson Chevrolet in Verona, they have free loaner cars. So I can go to the UW Masters Singers concert tomorrow evening like I'd planned.
So it's not the end of the world. About the only thing my car's deadness means to me: once Mom dropped me off at 4, I was home for the day. In addition, I ought to get up early tomorrow (well, not at 1 like I did most days last week) to get the car-repair show on the road. Literally.
If it had to happen, I'm glad it happened this week.