In August, my husband and I drove to IKEA, where we purchased the Best Mattress Ever. We found a nifty parking spot right outside our building and haven't had occasion to drive anywhere since. My husband can walk or take a bus to his hospital (which is down the street a ways and has no parking) and I don't have anywhere to go that I can't get to on foot in this neighborhood.
My husband had to get something out of the glove compartment today, and noticed that the automatic locks didn't unlock the other locks. Oops. Battery death. How tragic.
Our poor little car doesn't get enough love and attention. We haven't even been able to come up with a suitable name for her, even though we've had her for two years now. A year ago she was loved daily, trips to the grocery store, trips across town, up and down that majestic mountain called Olympus. And now she's given up. Lost the will to keep going. We'll revive her, of course, but I suspect she won't ever be the same. Not until we move into our house in the 'burbs. There she'll have a smaller mountain to climb, but she'll have a view of the sea. And she will be loved and needed every day.
I'm sorry car. Please forgive us?