I got in my car this morning, and one of the hieroglyphics on my dash board was trying to tell me something. There was this little symbol lit up in orange (the -warning- color) that looked like an exclamation point inside a cauldron. Was my car trying to tell me I was late for potions class? Then I remembered I don't go to Hogwarts. So, I decided to try and decipher this message using my decoder (aka-owner's manual); the verdict: low tire pressure...so I look up the tire section of the manual and I'm supposed to be packing 32lbs psi in each tire.
I went to the service station on my lunch break, and after getting over the initial shock that the Shell station charges for air--I was very proud of my self for fixing the problem on my own. While it's probably a completely normal thing for people to put air in their tires, and I shouldn't feel special for having done so-I always feel a little 'I am woman, hear me roar' whenever I can tackle a car problem by myself.
That's the story of the day. The End.
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