I had to have my car inspected for the registration renewal last week. As is my usual practice, I put it off until the last minute. I hoped to get to the DMV before 5:00pm on Friday. I got everything done that I needed to do, and the car is good to go.
But, when I got into the car after leaving the inspection station, I noticed that the brake light was illuminated. I didn’t leave myself any time to bother with it. At first, I thought maybe the emergency brake just wasn’t fully disengaged. It was, though. I’m impatient, and I was in a huge hurry, so I drove to the DMV to get the registration taken care of. I figured I’d deal with the brake light later on.
I checked the manual, and here’s what it said: CAUTION: The arrow on the reservoir cap must be pointin (meant to be “pointing”) forward after the cap is installed. Make sure the brake warning switch wiring doesn’t get caught between the cap and top edge of the brake fluid reservoir.
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| 1. Brake light on after inspection. | 2. RTFM. | 
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| 3. Point arrow in right direction, making sure wires aren’t pinched. | 4. Brake light not on. | 






 I don’t really blog much anymore, because I’m not being treated for my multiple myeloma these days.  It’s been pretty stable for nearly six years.  I try not to live in the myeloma world too much.  Actually, I don’t really even try.  It just works out that way.  When I first learned I had myeloma, back in 2003, it was all I could think about, from the time I woke up in the morning, until the time I went to sleep.  I’ve talked to a lot of people who experienced the same sort of involuntary obsessive thoughts about the disease.  It’s a strange feeling.  You know there’s something inside you that’s trying to kill you, and you can’t stop thinking about it.  The farther you get from your last treatment, the less you think about it.
I don’t really blog much anymore, because I’m not being treated for my multiple myeloma these days.  It’s been pretty stable for nearly six years.  I try not to live in the myeloma world too much.  Actually, I don’t really even try.  It just works out that way.  When I first learned I had myeloma, back in 2003, it was all I could think about, from the time I woke up in the morning, until the time I went to sleep.  I’ve talked to a lot of people who experienced the same sort of involuntary obsessive thoughts about the disease.  It’s a strange feeling.  You know there’s something inside you that’s trying to kill you, and you can’t stop thinking about it.  The farther you get from your last treatment, the less you think about it.