So, you’ve had those days, right? You didn’t get enough sleep, you woke up cranky, the cat pissed in your shoes, and so on… The beautiful weather we had last weekend is now a distant memory, and Gothboy (who is also my own personal weather nerd) decreed earlier this week that we can expect snow today. Joy.

Work remains to be hectic, although there is a rumor that it will lessen somewhat in the very near future. I scoff. I haven’t been to the gym in over a week and a half, and considering that I like to go 5 times a week, well, let’s just say it’s starting to make me cranky. I think in the last month I’ve made it to the gym three times. *grrrr*

There has been, of course, good tidings in the last several weeks. Annual reviews came and yours truly is apparently fantastic and wonderful, but we knew that already, right? Many thanks to my boss for such nice words! And then, there is the car. Mmhmm, yes, that’s right, another car. We traded the old Z in for a new Z, and it is gorgeous. Which leads me back to today.

As I’m swearing my face off this morning due to traffic, the car informs me that I have about 30 miles left until empty. I had only about 20 miles left to go to work, but what isn’t in stop and show traffic is racing down the Beltway traffic. Okay, it doesn’t have to be racing down the Beltway traffic, but we’ve already discussed my driving habits. Slower traffic keep right! Better still, just get the fuck off the road!

*cough*

Where was I? Oh, yes, stuck in stop and show traffic, gas light blinking at me - don’t look at me, gassing up is a blue job! I’ve already passed the only remaining gas station before my hop onto 267, turning around and going back isn’t an option. So what is a modern girl to do? Why, you tell the navigation system to take you to the nearest gas station, post haste!

Oh the beautiful, wonderful, oh so mechanically sexy glory that is my car. She gives me a list of stations, I choose the nearest Chevron, and off we go. And since she’s taken me off the beaten path, on request, she takes me oh so gently out to the Beltway, avoiding 267 all together. *squee!* We hop on the Beltway, hit a modest 95, and off we go to work.

And that, my friends, is how a Sabre turns a craptastic morning into a fantabulous day!

This entry was posted on Friday, March 17th, 2006 at 8:58 am and is filed under Driving, Just Another Day in the Life, Navel Gazing and Random Rambling. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.