I am totally digging the number 27 right now. Why?
Because that's how many dollars it took to fill up my gas tank.
I was sure the number dials on the pump were broken or something. I actually tapped the little plastic cover, wondering if the gas was stuck in the hose and just hadn't made it into my car yet. Ever since gas bills began to rival mortgage payments, I had gotten into the habit of letting my gauge go down to less then an eighth of a tank. I know, I know, not wise in winter weather but if the roads were dry and I wasn't wandering far from civilization, I'd let it run down.
Normally I'd be looking at a bill in the $60s to fill her back up again but not this time. I filled up for less then half that and it looks like the price is sticking.
Which is exceptionally good news since I had back to work next week and will once again be driving the Tour de Michigan again on a daily basis. (My drive to work takes me through a good chunk of the map in my area.)
I'm working hard to take it easy the last few days I'm off. I am not watching too much of the news anymore, to say that I am frustrated by what is going on with the hearings about the loans for the Big 3 is a colossal understatement. Instead I'm hoping to just relax before I re-enter the rat race at full throttle. Because it ain't gonna be pretty when I walk back in there, I've already been warned.
So bring on the knitting again, its cheaper then therapy. And I've even messed around with writing a little today. The NaNoWriMo challenge was starting to turn me into Jack Nicholson's character from The Shining. I was starting to think he was totally rationale for writing nothing but the same sentence on hundreds of pages. Mary and Cathy suggested that perhaps a break would be a good idea. I took their advice and left it be for a couple days. Somehow, "Heeeeeeeeere's Lynnie!" doesn't sound nearly as threatening, it might not be a good look for me.