The flaw is called
hubris and I humbly beg pardon of the gods.
I offer my sincere apologies to the goddess of memory and my own subconscious for not investigating more closely the calculations I made on my car’s gas mileage. Despite little niggles that had me checking and rechecking my math all week, I kept concluding that this day I could still get 20 more miles out of my tank of gas.
I was wrong.
To the god of travel, I offer many grateful thanks. When my car did run out of gas, I was on a side street known to me that was decently traveled, less than ¼ mile from a gas station. There was no oncoming traffic which allowed my car to coast unimpeded into a factory parking lot complete with a friendly and attentive security guard and grounds staff.
Also, I offer my heartfelt thanks to the goddess of glamour who allowed me to forget my plans to wear a jacket, skirt and heels to the office today, and instead, clad me Audrey Hepburn-like in a white shirt, black fully button up cardigan, black capri pants and
flat-heeled shoes which allowed easy walking and allowed an easy clean-up once my white shirt became irrevocably stained with dirt and gasoline from the complication I had with my gas can and my gas tank. Back at work, I simply washed up in the bathroom, removed my shirt and wore my cardigan fully buttoned up as a shirt.
As a
post scriptum, I also offer thanks for my high-end choice of MAC’s fluidline longwearing gel eyeliner. Two layered liners did not run, streak or fade during an hour and half walk through the sweaty, steaming, sunny, hot Texas August weather.
Worth every penny, ladies.
And lastly, vastly humble thanks to My Lady, whose protecting aegis was with me this day. Her protection allowed the stream of kindly strange men who stopped to offer me a ride to be dissuaded without rancor.
For these and other kindnesses this day, I will joyfully, freely and deservedly pay vows.
(Three years without a working gas gauge and I’ve only run out of gas twice. I think that’s doing pretty good.)
