More than once, I’ve arrived home after work and suddenly realized that I forgot to bring my car. Normally, I walk to and from the Blue House. But sometimes, I accidentally drive in the morning and then walk home at night, forgetting my Hyundai is still in the employee parking. It necessitates a call to my editor with a message she’s not used to hearing: “Sorry, but I forgot my car.”

It reminds me of a brilliant plan hatched by my friend Frank in college. At the end of every semester, he would go through his belongings in the dorm and apply the “month test” to each. Used it in the last month? It survives. Haven’t used it in the last month? Into the garbaggio.

Same, I think, should apply to my car. I’ve used it in the last month, but hardly. I live downtown and am walking distance to everything I need to do: work, buy groceries, attend happy hour, run, play ping-pong. Selling it would give me one fewer thing to forget.

And the car deserves a more appreciative owner. I call it 'my turtle': it’s very slow, it’s green and it has a shell (a.k.a. car-top carrier). But like a turtle, it’s amazingly reliable. It’s gotten me to and from North Carolina’s Outer Banks, and to and from San Diego, from actual sea to actual shining sea. And I show my gratitude by stranding it in employee parking overnight.

I posted it for sale in December. So far, Indianapolis has found the turtle perfectly resistible. No love whatsoever. Which means we’re stuck with each other at least for awhile. Perhaps a Good Samaritan will steal it as an act of mercy the next cold night the turtle spends in employee parking.