Me? Not So Bright

I am not the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree. But let me tell you what was bright. The interior light of my car, as it shone when I walked into the garage on Thursday morning. It was still shining from the night before, when I had pulled the car up to the mailbox when I got home from work. I had switched on the interior light so I could see what I was doing as I pulled the mail from the box.

The light continued to shine as I closed the mailbox and drove down the driveway and into the garage. It continued to shine as I pushed the button and closed the garage door. It continued to shine as I gathered my things and went into the house.

It was still on as I waited for the repair man who was due to arrive at 5:30. It was still on when the repair man actually showed up at 6.

It remained on as I debated whether or not to take the car down to the truck stop to fill it with gas. I would have done it on the way home, but was rushing to meet the repair man who was a half hour late anyway. It remained on as laziness won out, and the “Ah, screw it, I’ll do it tomorrow on the way to work,” and the comfy, fleecy sweatpants slid over my hips and tied at my waist.

It was still illuminated when I read before falling asleep. It was still illuminated as I slept. It was still illuminated as I ran 4 miles on the newly repaired treadmill on Thursday morning. It was still illuminated as I showered, dressed, fed the dogs, ate, and got freaked out over the mysterious foot prints on the deck.

Then it was shining as I walked into the garage so that I could get into the car, start it, and leave for work.

Only it didn’t start. At all. The ignition verfed, snurged, spat and clicked. I gave up and took the truck (a.k.a. the meat wagon, because it’s bright red and huge) into work.

On Friday morning we jump started the car and let it run for about 15 minutes as I ate breakfast and packed lunch. It takes me 20 minutes to get to work; 35 minutes would be enough to get the battery up to snuff. I got behind the wheel, shifted into reverse, and the engine silenced. I started the car again, shifted into reverse, and the engine cut out again.

Then I turned the key just so the ignition would verf, snurg, spit and click again. Without enough energy to move, my poor little jeep barricades the driveway. With the interior light off.