The first astounding act of stupidity in my 30s

**Back posted from Myspace, which is no-more.

Monday was my 30th birthday. It was the worst birthday I've had in the past few years. This was NOT because I turned 30. It was my first birthday without my grandmothers, I have family issues that make holidays hard, I'm very stressed about finding an apartment in the next two weeks - AND my car died. I cried. It sucked.

This is how my birthday week has gone: Car refuses to start on my birthday. Collin comes to the rescue. We jump start my car. Collin and Cassie give my flowers and drawing and cheesecake with candles in it. I love them. I drive home. Car doesn't start the next morning, I take the bus and am 1/2 an hour late to work. I drive the car to Sears after work, get a new battery and am on my merry way... until Wednesday morning, when the car again doesn't start. I ask my neighbor to help me jump it, I drive to work, then to the mechanic after work. They rent me a crappy Ford for $13.50 - I love them, they are going to fix my car and restore the happiness that I once had in life, you know, in my 20s.

Just for some background, to establish a possible pattern, I'd like to cut to a couple of years ago. I had driven our boss's mammoth Suburban to the mall, don't remember why. My car at the time was a manual, had almost always been a manual - the Mammoth Suburban was not. When I arrived at the mall and tried to get out of the car I found that I couldn't get the keys out of the ignition. I looked everywhere for a little release button, I started the car and turned it off again. I did a little dance outside the car, hoping that the Key gods would smile down on me. I almost cried. I broke down, called the boyfriend and made him come rescue me from my Mammoth Suburban Mall Hell...Apparently a automatic car must be ALL THE WAY in park before you can take the key out. Who knew?

Now back to today. I'm speaking with the nice, grandfatherly man at the mechanic. He's really nice, we chat a bit, he tells me there's nothing wrong with my car, I laugh, obviously he's kidding. Obviously after I've cried and stressed, paid $88 for a new battery and worried that I would end up LIVING in this broken car in two weeks when my lease is up - OBVIOUSLY there is something very wrong with my car.

It CAN'T just be that the carpet is bunched up underneath the clutch, so I think I'm pushing it all the way down but I'm not. And that's why it won't start and why it hiccups when I'm shifting. It can't be - I won't let it...

I want to apologize to my people. Women of the world, I didn't mean to do it. I promise I'm not this dumb. I promise I know what an alternator does and how to change my own tire. I promise that I can't possibly be this stupid at 30. Really.