Lost in Place

1. Put gas in the car
2. Go to the post office
3. Go to the bank

I hate them. I really do. I avoid them until I cannot possibly avoid them anymore. (Though not having a bank in Virginia has made avoiding that one a whole lot easier. Though it's just been replaced by going to the ATM. Won't do it. Refuse. Hate it. No idea why.)

Last night, I was about 40 miles from the next gas station when I looked down and noticed I was about out of gas. Like less than an eighth of a tank almost. So being a stereotypical girl, I call the man.

"Am I going to make it to the gas station?"

Dan pays attention to this stuff. I really don't. Mostly because I am really bad at math so it probably wouldn't make a difference if I tried. Also because I'm just too scatterbrained to let something like that take up permanent residence in my head. And because I'm lazy.

So after driving half way home with the "you really need to get gas right now you idiot" light on, wondering how the hell I would manage running out of gas with a child, in the freezing cold dark, I think I finally accepted that I need to move on from my hatred of putting gas in the car.

This time was entirely accidental, I had plenty of gas when I went to get Madeleine, knowing I'd easily make it to the gas station on the way home. I didn't take into account that I also had to go to the post office (I know!!! Two in one day. It hurt.) and grocery shopping. I guess that takes more gas than I'd thought it would. These things aren't usually accidental though. I deliberately avoid going to the gas station until the light comes on. I've never actually run out of gas. I don't know how. This was a habit I started before I had someone else depending on me in the car. And no way am I getting stranded somewhere with a grumpy toddler. Cuz that wouldn't just send the stress levels through the roof. No thank you.

I'll still avoid the post office and banks/ATMs though.