Because or Why Not

Yesterday I was leaving a little later then I'd hope for what was, essentially, my second day of work.  Now, leaving a little bit later is no big deal since I make a definite habit of being ten minutes early.  I'd just affixed brand-new plates to my car, having walked in from town that morning.  I was pretty excited to have a ride again.
My car took half a minute to turn over and warm up, which was fine considering it's been parked for three months over winter.  The real problems started when I went to drive it.  It simply didn't want to move.  With a little extra persistence I managed to get it onto the driveway, but was certain, by now, that it wasn't going to drive.
Turns out the rear wheel was dragging.  Apparently the e-brake had seized on.
Ok.  Now, I drive Honda Civics which are amazingly reliable cars.  Still, there's been a number of repairs (considering the first was older then me), which I've always done myself.  What I mean by that is I always bring my car to my Dad and he sorts things out well I'm the go-for.  This car, until yesterday, only needed some body rust touch-up, which my brothers helped me with.
I have tried to create an interest in mechanics.  I really wish it came naturally to me, but apart from the fact that I acknowledge these skills as extremely useful I have absolutely no desire to learn.  Where as I wish I was more like this...

when it comes to fixing vehicles I feel more like the kind of woman that makes mechanics see dollar signs.  I probably don't actually come across as that, but mostly without my Dad or brothers I'd be entirely lost.
Working on my car always makes me feel kinda tough, which is probably not a good sign to start with.
I've learned the basics.  But I wish I knew much more.  Maybe I've just set my standards a little high comparing myself to my brothers who rebuild all their own stuff and the one who does incredible airbrush body work.
I've ground through the e-brake cable, now, and it still doesn't feel right.  I may be biking to work today.  If my Dad doesn't fix it on his lunch hour.