Check engine

I hate to say it but I'm one of those stereotypical females that ignores the check engine light on my car.

Once it goes on, I just ignore it, hoping it goes away. It never does.

My check engine light had been on for about two months. Naively, I told myself it was just the gas cap that hadn't been tightened enough, thus triggering the light.

Or it was just a ploy by the car makers to get me to spend some money. They must have set it to go off after x-amount of miles.

Well, they aren't going to fool me.

So I pretended it wasn't there. I drove to Los Angeles. I drove to Sacramento. The light was still on, but my trusty car got me to and fro.

Then I made the mistake of telling my dad.

"You need to get that checked out," he said.

Ugh.

Yesterday, I took it to a friend's who has that trusty device that tells you the problem. And of course, the book didn't have the code. So he just reset the light and I was off.

I drove to work, happy. I drove home from work, mad. That pesky little light was back.

I had done some Internet research, and turns out the code wasn't a small thing. It was rare - yay me. But expensive.

So naturally I over react, imagining I'm going to have to promise the repairman my first child.

I scream how I hate my car and I never wanted it in the first place.

But today, I made some phone calls, took my car in. Had the computer replaced. And didn't pay anything.

Now I feel a bit foolish about panicking before I knew the results. But I also feel relieved! Hooray!

My car and I definitely have a love-hate relationship. Yesterday I hated it. Today, I love it.

Kind of.

Drive thru

I have my best ideas when I'm in my car.

There's just something about being behind the wheel, the scenery whipping past, that just ignites my imagination.

In my car, I'm a rockstar singing my heart out to an adoring audience. In my car, I'm an explorer headed for my next adventure. In my car, I've written best-selling novels and award-winning screenplays. In my car, I'm a philosopher having serious discussions with God.

I've really come to cherish the time I spend in my car. Maybe because it's the one place I can go to be alone.

Alone time is important. Because who else wants to hear me sing at the top of my lungs?