So, on Saturday, I drove through a gut-wrenching blinding rain complete with accompanying electrical storm. A warning light popped up on my dashboard that I'd never seen before, and I learned, much to my displeasure, that it's a bad one, to wit: something screwy is going on with my alternator. It didn't help that I had just driven through a lightning strike, although I'm thankful that my entire car didn't short out.
As a woman who drives a great deal and relies on her car at an almost ridiculous level, that compounded my anxiety from earlier in the day. So while others were taking part in Stefan's improv show, I was busily thumbing through the owner's manual, drinking Two Rum Punch, and worrying myself so much in general that I could not possibly enjoy the first episode of Doctor Who starring Peter Capaldi.
Also, it's going to monkeywrench the desk schedule, bane of my existence, at work today. This is a repair, however, that WILL NOT wait. I blow this one off and I'm looking at buying a new car, folks...and this one's not entirely paid for. So yeah, I get to wait this out at the Subaru dealership today to the tune of Daddy's Credit Card. (Let's not get into the social engineering that took, and yes, I'm paying him back in a few days, it's just going to take some juggling to get it together. He nearly had a conniption. Trust me, the First Bank of Mom would have paid for this one and not asked for it back, but I'm an adult now/with problems of my own/I'm an adult now/Why can't you leave me alone?...)
Anyway, I felt that this was deserving of a Darkwing Duck reference, as I felt quite disaster-prone plowing through the deluge with freaky red lights going off on the dashboard. It's Monday. Now all I have to do is make it all the way to the dealership. Wish me luck!