Well, I was "fixin' to" (as they say around here) go to Sherman this afternoon to pick up a few things. Hopped in my car, got out on the highway, then saw the check-engine light was on.

$*&%#(*#$@.

Debated briefly the risks of driving a 50-some mile round trip, contemplated the likelihood that the engine was "fixin' to" fall out of my car, and decided it was best to get it checked out.

(I didn't do that "lists of three things about me" that's been making the blogrounds but I will say one way in which I'm stereotypically a chick is that I know Jack about cars and their problems... I trust my car to the nice burly fatherly man at my auto-place, knowing it's not very feminist of me, but I really do go into glazed-eye mode when I start to think about intake manifolds and such).

So he checked it out. First, without looking at the car, he said "well, if it's not running badly, it's probably just an emissions problem." (Which meant, I took it, I could still go to Sherman, if I didn't mind being environmentally less-friendly).

But, turns out it's a fuel-injector issue. $(*#$)(*#@. He told me it was ok to drive the perhaps-ten-miles I'll need it for over the next two days (full days of teaching, meeting, church stuff. I NEED a car and was loath to rent one). But come Thursday, I have to drop Egbert off, hope there really is someone there at 7:30 to drive me up to campus, and then beg one of my colleagues to drive me back to the dealer to pick it up when it's done.

The bad news is it will be somewhere in the vicinity of $400 to fix. Ouch. The other choice is, apparently, to have my engine clog up at some indeterminate point in the future. (I guess this is what comes from using the cheapest gas you can find).

I will say I'm grateful that I do have the $400 to take care of this. But it means being more careful with my spending for a while. [edited following perspective change, to de-whine.]