I think people who know me best will agree that my adult life is a healthy mix of grown-up responsibility and childish foolishness.
I make excellent decisions when it comes to my safety and my well-being. I won't get on the back of a motorcycle because I know if something were to happen to me, my mother would be devastated. I don't speed often, not because I can't pay a speeding ticket, but because I don't want to lose my good driver's discount on my insurance. My producer at work asked me if I wanted a massage or shoes for Christmas, and I couldn't pass up a practical gift like a good pair of shoes. I have two life insurance policies, a small savings account, a good job and a nice computer. I know a whole lot about babies and kids, even though I have none of my own. All of these things make me feel like an adult.
After a shopping spree at Old Navy last night, 48 hours before a trip to Las Vegas and an unpaid 2 week hiatus, I called Justine. We had some details to work out regarding Vegas, and I hadn't really had a good conversation with her in about 6 weeks, so we were catching up. I pulled up in front of my apartment right in the middle of our conversation. I have underground parking, which means I can't continue conversations once I'm home because I'll lose signal on my cell phone once I'm in the garage. I often find myself parked illegally with the car running while I finish up conversations with friends. I was in such a situation last night, finishing up my chat with Justine, when all of a sudden, my car made sort of a "putter" noise and died. I turned the key... putter, putter, die.
I ran out of gas. Parked in front of my apartment. No, wait... parked ILLEGALLY in front of my apartment. Luckily (or not so luckily, as it turned out), my roommate was home and, as good roommates will do, she went to get gas for me. It wasn't enough gas, though... so we called AAA, and they came to the rescue, even though this comedy duo of tow truck guys they sent laughed at me.
When they put gas in the car and it started right up, I raised both of my arms with balled fists in an excited gesture of triumph. Gina said, "Score!"
The tow truck guy jokingly said, "Aw, don't get my hopes up."
What was the lesson I learned from last night? Always drive on a tank that's above 1/4 full? That the fact that this only my 2nd time running out of gas in 11 years of driving does not make it okay? Nope.
The lesson: everyone loves my girlfriend.