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Perils of Frugality

Every so often, I wake up in the morning and feel genuinely peaceful. I feel in tune with all of creation, and that there are nothing but possibilities at my fingertips. It’s usually mornings like this that life decides you need to be taken down a notch, shown that you certainly are not “all that,” and reminded that you are still a bumbling goof.

This morning, my car ran out of gas on the way to work. See, I’d been puting off a trip to the gas station because money has been flowing in a strictly outward direction these past few weeks, and I was hoping to make it to Friday without bending over to Big Oil for my monthly beating. Not surprisingly, my car lurched and died five blocks from home. I had to run home because I’d also forgotten my cell and needed to call work and let them know I’d be late. I borrowed the keys to Becky’s car, and drove to the gas station where I borrowed a 3 gallon can and put a couple gallons in Becky’s car as well (she was almost out). I was half-way home when I noticed that I’d not only left Becky’s fuel door open, but I could see in the side mirror that the gas cap was still precariously balanced on the open door.

I made it back home without incident, but in my haste to get back home, I’d also forgotten to close the air spout on the back of the gas can. I should explain that my wife owns a hatch back, thus there was no trunk to put the can in, so it was sitting behind the driver’s seat. I’d rolled down the windows to keep from asphyxiating on the fumes, but apparently left the air cap off so that droplets of gasoline could soak the papers beneath it. Even destroying the papers didn’t lessen the chemical stench in the car. Becky’s not happy about it, but it actually affects me more.

I once had to do the old siphoning trick on my grandpa’s pickup truck to get to work about a decade ago. Anyone who’s done that knows that it takes about two days for the taste to get out of your mouth, followed by another three days of smelling gasoline everywhere you are. The memory has stayed with me.

So, I’ve had better mornings. How about you?

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7 Responses

  1. Nate: Sorry you ran out of gas. But…stepping in a harfed up fur ball at 5:00 in the morning, in the dark, in my bare feet, isn’t exactly a great way to start the day.
    –Becky’s Mom

  2. Nate: Sorry you ran out of gas. But…stepping in a harfed up fur ball at 5:00 in the morning, in the dark, in my bare feet, isn’t exactly a great way to start the day.
    –Becky’s Mom

  3. Nate: Sorry you ran out of gas. But…stepping in a harfed up fur ball at 5:00 in the morning, in the dark, in my bare feet, isn’t exactly a great way to start the day.
    –Becky’s Mom

  4. Nate: Sorry you ran out of gas. But…stepping in a harfed up fur ball at 5:00 in the morning, in the dark, in my bare feet, isn’t exactly a great way to start the day.
    –Becky’s Mom

  5. Nate: Sorry you ran out of gas. But…stepping in a harfed up fur ball at 5:00 in the morning, in the dark, in my bare feet, isn’t exactly a great way to start the day.
    –Becky’s Mom

  6. Nate: Sorry you ran out of gas. But…stepping in a harfed up fur ball at 5:00 in the morning, in the dark, in my bare feet, isn’t exactly a great way to start the day.
    –Becky’s Mom

  7. Touche!

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