BEHOLD! THE FEMALE CAR EXPERT

My car stopped working yesterday. Turned the key and.. nothing. Not even a whimper.

My attempt at a lunch might have been foiled (and woe to the world had that happened), except I was going to lunch with Intern. So he drove.

Yay, lunch.

I called my Dad and explained my well-founded belief that my car being dead was directly related to the little electrical something wrong with my car. See, my radio, when you turn the car off, it does not automatically go off. You either have to open the door or wait ten minutes.

Not too terribly long ago, that door thing stopped working. I was never really concerned because what was the big deal about turning off my radio if everything would go off in ten minutes anyway.

I wasn't really concerned until yesterday. Because yesterday my car died. Deceased. Dead.

Deciding an attempted jumping (heh) might be worth it, I enlisted the help of IT guy and Hot Blond, and lo, my car ROSE FROM THE DEAD. It purred (as much as a Cavalier can purr) and roared (again with the car insults) and sputtered maybe once and we decided it was worth driving it around the block because 1) my boss was not in the office yesterday and 2) that was pretty much the extent of our collective car expertise.

Dad had suggested I might have left my dome light on so as I'm driving around the block, I check. It was not the dome light. I'm still expecting it was a little terror of an electrical problem like I told Dad it was.

Then I looked down.

I LEFT MY HEADLIGHTS ON! Why the hell did I ever even turn them on?! IT WAS DAYLIGHT WHEN I LEFT FOR WORK. I DID NOT NEED THEM.

I guess it's just karma for yelling at Girl Roommate because bitch was IN MY WAY and THROWING OFF MY SCHEDULE even if she did HAVE TO LEAVE BEFORE I DID because I'M A BITCH.

Yes, I'm all done with the CAPS lock. Why do you ask?