As it turns out, my car wasn't crying wolf. There really was something wrong with her. Of course, I didn't know this until after I walked to the garage IN THE COLD at 8 am.
After I thawed out in the office of the garage, the mechanic told me that they did find something wrong with the car. The whatcha-ma-call-it was bowed out, thus flooding out my engine as I started it. And they also found that the wires connected to the thing-a-ma-gig was all crapped out and needed to be replaced.
Oh. Ok. Sure.
So I took my car-less self and walked back home IN THE COLD where I could call my brother to pick me up and bring me to my parent's house where I could borrow my dad's pickup truck.
When all was said and done, my car is now one happy little bucket of bolts. I have her back and she starts up on the first try. Her engine just purrs and and the pickup is great. All she needed was a little TLC. I know the feeling.