Filled the van on Wednesday to the tune of 63 bucks for 18 gallons. Talk about painful; I've never spent that much to fill my tank. *sigh* I remember like it was yesterday the days when I budgeted $12.50 a week to fill my little Saturn. I even commuted back then.
So now the Morrow family is playing the game, "How long can we make this tank last?" I did my part yesterday by walking to the grocery store, thus killing two birds with one stone: my morning walk and our need for food. (Well, my need anyway; seeing as Dan eats, like, two times a day, his food lasts a heck of a lot longer than mine. I'm about to pop meal #4 in the oven and it's only 4 PM.) I figured it couldn't be any farther than the 3 miles I usually walk, and the hills would only make it better for me, right? Well, I didn't think about the fact that the hills coming back are a lot worse than going there--coming back you go uphill twice. By the time I got home I barely had the energy to put the groceries in the fridge before collapsing on the sofa. And then today my shins, ankles, and feet were crying, "Why do you hate us??"
Our self-imposed house arrest actually works well for me. We have a tendency to turn every need to leave the house into an excuse for a multi-hour excursion, which means I hardly ever get done all the stuff I need to do at home. But now I can see myself finally getting to the end of some projects that have been lingering on my to do list for months. My poor agent and publicist who have been patiently waiting for replies from me are no doubt sighing with relief, and whaddyaknow, we're actually caught up on laundry! It almost makes me glad gas is so freaking expensive.