I have no idea how old the battery in my car is—it’s not really my car, I’m still in school and driving my family’s pickup, but I think my ignorance is answer to the question anyway.
I am horrible about that sort of maintenance. The oil got so low the first time I started driving it (when I first got my license), it almost went empty…
Worse, when something does start to go wrong, I convince myself it’s something I’m doing. When its tires deflated and the manual turning got more difficult as a result, I figured I had just gotten weaker. When it started jerking and stalling because the u-joint was loose, I thought I had just forgotten how to shift. When it began braking less quickly and the break pedal started becoming stiffer because the brake booster was dying, I figured I was just not reacting to things quickly enough, or else had forgotten how hard I actually had to press on a brake pedal. It took a long trip on a highway, realizing I could barely press the pedal down, for me to believe that something was wrong with the car and not with me. I always assume it’s me.
I guess I approach relationships with the same mindset, but instead of simply driving along I’ll usually look for ways to preempt. While I can damage a car, I can’t hurt it in the same way I could a person. And a car can’t leave me.
Well, the pickup will leave leave me, when I get my own car—but it will never know.