[This one was kind of an Axe to Grind thing, but I began to get away from that. Photo by Fabian on Unsplash.]

I’d like to say that today went well, but I’d be lying a bit, I think. Overall, I got everything done that I really needed to do. Somehow, though, that doesn’t seem like enough.

Especially when the cop pulled me over because my headlights had gone out. I’ve nursed this car along as best I could, but this electrical bugaboo seems like it’s going to be the death of me sometimes, or at least the car is going to die. It’s been an ongoing thing, and I haven’t really had properly-functioning headlights for at least six months. I’m quite sure that there’s some kind of an analogy in there, but I’m too tired at this point to really think very hard about what it might be. You’re just going to have to come up with that one on your own, or let it go.

There is, in my Volvo, a computer module. Actually, it’s my guess that there are a number of them in there, but there’s one in particular that has done all it could to cause me to string myself up from the rafters of the garage. This particular computer module apparently tells the headlights when to go on and off. I had thought it was me telling them to do that, but, no, it’s this module. And this module, according to my mechanic, had decided that it wasn’t going to do that anymore. So, one night, on my long, dark drive home, the high beams wouldn’t work. Not the end of the world, but they are helpful on the roads I use on my way home from work. At any rate, I made it home safely that night, turned off the car, and started to walk into the house.

It was then that I realized that the headlights were still on. The car was turned completely off–I mean, the key was in my hand at this moment–but the headlights were still on, blazing with light. I was tired, so I considered for a moment. Was it the safety feature that keeps the lights on to show you the way up your walk? Volvo is so good about so many thoughtful solutions to problems you don’t even know you have yet that I’m often quite amazed at their ingenuity. Had I tripped this feature inadvertently? But, no, it had been at least thirty seconds by this point, and Volvo’s thoughtful feature was designed to turn itself off after thirty seconds. So it couldn’t be that.

By this time, another thirty seconds had passed, and the light was still shining away. Again, I’m sure there is some kind of analogy there, but I’ll leave it to you to figure it out. All I knew is that I was tired, confused, and now annoyed to top it all off. Long story short, my automotive technician determined that it was a computer module. But this was no ordinary computer module. This computer module was going to cost $1000 to fix and/or replace.

I know what you’re thinking: that is one expensive freaking computer module. That’s exactly what I thought, too, and, since we don’t have $1000 just sitting around waiting for a computer module on my car to die, we had some hard choices to make. We could eat, or we could fix my headlights. It took me about 40 seconds to decide we needed to eat more badly than I needed to spend that money on my headlights, so I came up with another alternative: since the headlights would go out when I unhooked the battery, and then would come on again if I hooked the battery back up again, I didn’t need to spend that $1000 to fix them. My solution, though heartily annoying to me, was delightfully low-tech, which pleased me to no end because I have nearly zero mechanical abilities in any manner, shape, or form. So the simple fact that I had come up with a solution on my own was a) unusual, and b) mystifying. Because my solution actually worked.

Until tonight. There I was, attempting to knock out a container we load at work each week on Friday night on a Thursday, because someone had finally managed to get us all the freight and information we needed by Thursday in order to complete it, and in doing so helping to possibly avoid a hellish Friday night for a change. This was awesome! I might be able to finish my workday on Friday night by midnight, as opposed to the usual arrangement, which normally sees me completing everything and leaving work by one at the earliest, and most often keeps me from heading home until three AM, or–worst-case scenario–six, seven or even eight or nine on Saturday morning. Needless to say, I was thrilled.

Until I started my car to leave, and found that my headlights, which had been loyally lighting up every time I hooked the cables to the battery for the past few months, decided that tonight they were not going to do that. Bastards. Rotten, mechanical bastards. At the same time, I noticed when I turned back into the parking lot that the turn indicators weren’t functioning, either. Miraculously, the high beams were. So, I did what any red-blooded American male would do if faced with a car that would only operate with high beams at nearly four in the morning: I drove home with the high beams.

And I would have gotten away with it, too, if only that cop would have passed me on a straight-away. But, no, it had to be a curve. So I flicked the high beams off, leaving only the one working fog lamp on the driver’s side; the one on the passenger’s side had been knocked out two years earlier by a late-night meeting with a wild boar…I have an interesting life, huh? The lack of proper lighting caused the conscientious law enforcement officer driving the vehicle to whip his car around like I had just robbed a bank, and flash his lights to get me to pull over. I’m surprised he didn’t just shoot me. I guess there’s a lot of paperwork when they shoot someone, though, and he probably just didn’t want to be bothered with a lot of extra writing, unlike me who would welcome that opportunity.

I’m tempted to kill this car now, just to show it who’s boss. Anyway, now I think I’m gonna have to pay that $1000 to get the headlights fixed. Oh, yeah, just came to me: no wonder I haven’t had more success in plotting a better course in my life of late: I can’t see where I’m going.

I feel better now.