If Funky Warning Light Combinations Start to Flash, THERE'S A REASON WHY

I think the universe is trying to tell me something. Nick avoided an accident this morning and by the end of the day had four new tires (needed them anyway), alignment, and something else. Maybe the tire people threw in a consolation dum-dum. Luckily ($600 later, and I'm starting with "luckily"?) Nick was safe and fine.
In another neck of the woods, riiight about the same time, my battery and emergency brake lights are flashing again. Ugh. I called Nick to gripe about finally making the decision to schedule a service appointment, and my call found him changing his own tire so he could get to the tire place. Once in my classroom, I reserved an online appointment with the dealership, and during the day I received a follow up call message to confirm.
I'd call them later.
I left school this afternoon, nestling into my drive to get the boys. Oh, whoever planted the wildflower garden in the road esplanade had vision...such a beautiful vision, and such a pleasure to look at every end of my work days. La te da. Oh, there are those blasted warning lights again. Good thing I have a call/e-mail into the service department. Stop, go, made the light under the freeway which I NEVER make. During my big turn from north to west, in an instant, my car drops to less that a quarter of its normal power. I can steer, nothing hit me, but it was stunned at a speed less than idling. By golly, I had my serviceman's direct number in my cell phone from his earlier call. How's that for timing! Also, my mileage is 29,222: YES!--it's under warranty! Wooo hooo!!! At least this would not be something else totalling $600, but perhaps I shouldn't assume anything.
As much as I love my home city, there are many places here, there, and everywhere that I would rather NOT be stuck in a dead (or coding) car. My Nissan guy paired me up with a towing company (towing? I've NEVER been towed) and we waited in Roznovsky's burger joint for its arrival. I was so glad for their existence. Barbara and Nick both came to my rescue. Between Nick's gimpy car from this morning, and my seizing van this afternoon, I was contemplating buying a horse and cart.
Tonight my mama van is probably violated. The poor baby was strapped to a tow truck (a shiny one, at least...not a dingy one) and hauled to the dealership...at least I HOPE it arrived. Safely. Without any scratches. Or anything else funky.
I felt like I had great circumstances for crummy situations today. My cars are sort of a metaphor for my own health. I don't really seek medical help for something unless there is something obviously wrong. However, when I seek the help of the professionals, it is very comforting to know there are people out there, ready to jump in to help. I hope my van is OK. Going to visit it (or at least confirm that it got to the dealership) sounds looney, but the thought did cross my mind.
I want to type about Nathan's first soccer practice, but I am so darn tired. I'll combine my soccer thoughts with tomorrow night's first game highlights. Go Transformers! Yep. Transformers.