This feeling excludes those without cars, naturally. It also excludes “car people.”
I’m not a car person. I have one, I drive it to and from work, but I’d just as soon not have it. I drive, and have driven, a Toyota Corolla for years and “upgrade” every few. It’s a car likely known best for it’s regularity and stability, two attributes great for a car and less great for a first date.
Point is, anything outside of getting gas as it relates to my car, is a nuisance to me. That light—and to be clear, I literally mean any light on that dash, from the “hey, fucko, get your oil changed!” to the “uh, I hate to tell you this, but you likely have a nail in your tire”—just needs to go away.
Usually this is solved pretty easily and it’s almost always solved because someone with actual expertise took care of it for you.
One way or the other, you definitely drove around with that light for longer than you probably should have. And, you certainly didn’t know exactly how serious the light’s warning was to be heeded. You probably just got lucky, avoiding something worse by pure happenstance.
But, the light’s gone.
You can live free, once more.
Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: Thinking the light is the benign kind and finding out it’s the “you’ve got a serious problem on your hand, but not serious enough that we’ll give you a rental car, you’ll just have to sit in the waiting room for hours before paying us well over $300”-type of feeling.