After a nice long wet day yesterday, I left class not having gotten my paper back and just glad that my presentation/discussion of Lorine Niedecker went pretty well anxious to start up the car and chat with my parents on the ride home (which I do by using the hands-free mode on the cell). So I get in the car, put my key in the ignition, and I hear what sounds like a car alarm with the flu. Turns out it’s my car’s alarm, but very weak. The sound silences when I turn the key, but the car doesn’t start. I cannot remove the key. So, I call James to say there’s something fucked with my car. He asks me, “Did you leave the lights on?”
I left the lights on. The battery, dead. He asks me what parking lot I’m in and tells me he’s on his way. He is my hero. The wind beneath my wings and such. So, I stand there by my car and call my mom to pass the time.
I had a dream last night that was about my Modernist Women class. It was just like a normal class, except different people, different room. And it was also like a nightmare because when I got my paper back and saw I had a D, I woke up immediately and gasping for breath.
We still haven’t heard from Nick, the friend who’s doing our invitations. And they should be going out in less than two weeks.
Today, my car is running, but it seems a little temperamental. I tried to assure it that I wouldn’t put it through this trauma again, but I don’t think it believes me.