this morning i had to be out of the house by 6:30am. i dont do vertical before like 8-ishso this was already a challenge. i havent slept past 6:30 yet this week, and was even up one day at 4:30 to meet my new hour long commute head on.
so i left the house in a hurry, but was still able to hear hubby say he didnt check the fluids or get gas in the car that let me sit briefly just yesterday. i am out the door and on my way. my time with god in the mornings has been quite sacred. so vivid i find myself telling him jokes and laughing out loud as i am amused by the thought of his amusement with me. all of the sudden i look down and there is no gasthe gauge is apparently very unreliable and we dont let it go much below 1/4 tank as we dont know when empty actually happens. well folks, we are well below 1/4 and i can never gauge distance to my next destination without gps, even if i have been somewhere 3 times already that week.
i am already concerned the car will putt out on my way (i bargained yesterday,that if it had to break down it should happen on the way home. i got my wish!) now i am driving on fumes of faith too. more laughing out loud with god. i requested that the next gas station be a sheetz (they have my favorite chocolate milk in this area). next stationsheetz by only a parking lot, there was a sunoco or something next door, life is good. i pull the car to the wrong side of the pump and have to drive around, but got it on the first time, which is rare. i head in, get my chocolate milk, a bottle of fuel injector cleaner, some smokes (i told you i was a jerk) and pre-paid for my gas.
i dropped off my goodies on the front seat of the car and began pumping. part way through, i realize i have not put the cleaner into the tank(yes, this is a real decision a 32 year old woman made today)i put my gas nozzle on the ground and go rummaging on the front seat for the cleaner. its not there! my eyes are darting back and forth from the nozzle on the ground, to the pre-paid status on the pump to the front door of the sheetz. i cant rehang the nozzle, i dont know what happens when you have a credit card paid-pre-paid pump nozzle before i have finished pumping. i flash back to all of these sticky labels on the pump ALWAYS REPLACE NOZZLE DANGER
i know my choice is a bad one, but highly warranted in this situation. in a moment of glory i barrel back towards the store where the clerk (who has probably seen the nozzle resting on the ground) is coming towards me with my bottle of cleaner. i grab it and thank her graciously, then run back to the car/nozzle crisis i have created. the man pumping gas beside me seems to be in some state of disbelief. he is looking at me like someone would a mentally disabled child who is beating himself in the head with a stick. he just cant seem to wrap your mind around the concept, and alls he knows it just aint right.
the bottle of injector cleaner spills out over the side of the car, the nozzle is still laying on the ground and all i can think about is when i get in the car, i want to smoke and not light myself on fire. (i dont know what is in fuel injector cleaner, but it smells pretty serious) i finally resume pumping which brings some relief to the grimacing pumper beside me. i replace the nozzle and sniff my fingers, mary kathrine gallagher style of courseits official i am a fire hazard. i grab a napkin from the glove box, but it was of no real value to the situation. i look and behold.(enter angels singing)you know that thing hanging on the pillar in most gas stations with the window squeegie? i dip my hands in the water, surely infested with insect parts and the like, and begin cleaning my hands. after a few dips and rubs i see my fellow pumper is pretty disgusted. he is looking at me like i have disrobed and am sponge bathing with the bug water squeegie and all. i pat my hands dry with the complimentary paper towels provided, probably for windshields and fluid checks (quite absorbant) and am on my way. leaving a story for my perplexed pumper friend to share at his next destination.
i arrived at work with only a few putt and pops. the day wasughno desire to talk work! but to give you an idea, one of the people i assigned to this huge account i am trying to save POOPED HER PANTS AT WORKget the picture???
end of the day, hop back in the carexit the freeway to continue my final 28 miles til home.putt putt putt, sputter, sputter, sputterzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. i am officially broken down at the side of the road. cars flying by, hot, after a week that would make a grown man cry like the rolling stones.
a tow truck, free cup of joe from the nice lady in the farmers market beside my cars preferred resting place, a call or 11 to hubby for a ride, an hour drive to pick up annie at camp, the song from the red robin restaurant chain stuck in my head and this obsession to use an old man voice and say all of my S-sounds with a whistle (possibly a sign that i have finally lost my mind) and we are home safe and sound (minus the mind)
and this friends is a real day in my real life