Something started going smack smack smack smack! under the hood of the car, which is not, generally speaking, a good noise for a car to be making, so I pulled over and turned the engine off, and investigated the noise, and determined it was probably a broken belt or something like that.
And I'm not sure whether this is a sign of maturity, or if it's just sufficient life-experience, or if it's because I have cellphones and credit cards and backup vehicles and boyfriends in my life, or what, but once I was past the initial "uh-oh, unexpected event!" stage, there was just nothing anxiety-provoking about it, and I know that a decade ago, it would have been a big stressful ordeal.
I called home. I called Triple-A. I waited for a tow truck. I chatted with the tow truck driver while we drove to the garage a few blocks from home. (We agreed that pho is tasty, and good when you have a cold.) Dropped the car off. Walked home. Walked back this morning to drop off keys and ask them to fix it.
It was like, well, the car's broken, and we'll get it fixed, and either it'll be expensive or it won't, but there's really no point in worrying about it beforehand.
The garage called back before I was even out of the shower. Nothing wrong, the belt just came off. Probably somebody made an error when they put it on a year ago, and it just eventually worked its way loose.
New belt, plus labor: $140. Towing beyond the first four miles covered by AAA: $13.50. All of it dealt with and finished before lunch. Just... no big deal.