Just one little thing…

Last night, after coming home late, and looking for something to accompany my dinner of hot soup, I watched some throwaway episode of some throwaway show in syndication.

The premise of the episode was that just one little thing can change the outcome of your whole day. It was a riff on the Butterfly Effect complete with a CG butterfly.

I actually thought it was a clever bit of television writing, and it was highly satisfying, along with my chicken soup.

This morning, I had occasion to revisit this bit of chaos theory as I made my way into work.

I left the house a skosh later than I’d wanted to, and when I fired up the Jeep, the gas indicator began making noises at me. I had to stop for gas, making me run even later.

The closest gas station is located on a road out of town that I don’t usually take, because along that road there are three schools. The parents dropping off their kids always backs up traffic, so I avoid it.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. In addition to running later than usual, and running into school traffic by taking a road I normally don’t take, it turns out there was a traffic light blinking at the most critical intersection (right before the highway entrance). So traffic on that road was backed up for about five miles.

And because I sat for an hour on a road that should normally take ten minutes to traverse, I got to work much later than usual, meaning I had a hard time finding a parking spot. The one I did find was a tight squeeze by a wall in the parking garage, and so I dinged my own door on the way out.

It also means the work cafeteria was out of orange juice by the time I got there.

And my staff gave me an arched eyebrow when I did finally roll into my office.

All this really bodes for a great day, right? Ugh.

So as I sit here at my desk drinking coffee instead of OJ, I got to thinking about how just one little thing had ruined my whole good day.

At first I blamed the traffic light. That damn light! If not for the flapping butterfly wing of that stupid busted stoplight I would have made it to work on time!

But that’s not really true, is it?

It’s that I rolled out of the house late. Had I had my you-know-what together and left earlier, there would have been less traffic.

But that’s also not really true, is it? Because even leaving late, I would have taken a different road and been fine…if I had a full tank of gas.

The crux of this whole thing was my empty gas tank.

See, last night when I was driving home, my near empty gas tank was already beeping at me. I could have stopped for gas on the route home, but feeling lazy and tired, I chose not to.

So the flapping wing, really, was my decision not to stop and get petrol last night.

That one decision has blown my whole Wednesday morning.

And unlike the television show, I can’t do a second act on this day and show what would have happened if the decisions had gone differently.

I have to, as The Good Man says, “just play through”.

That there is chaos theory, Karen style.

Strange days indeed

So. I made a stop this morning to get petrol for my hoopty so I could make it to work.

I’ve gotten to the point where I don’t even look at the price anymore. Because it gives me a pain. I just pull up, put the nozzle in the tank, swipe my card and fill ‘er up.

So I was idly hanging about, checking email while the tank filled when I noticed.

One dollar and ninety nine cents!?!?!??!

I need a neck brace for all the whiplash! It was, what, two, three months ago that I had to take out a loan promising my life and any future offspring to the Gods of Petrol just to get enough gas in the tank to get to work?

And now, it’s at a rate lower than I think I’ve ever seen it since I moved here eleven years ago.

Wow.

So then. As I drove in to work, I started to ponder.

All those freight carriers. They were adding a “fuel surcharge” to my orders to get them to me.

Have they lowered or eliminated those?

The airlines were bumping up rates for high fuel charges. Am I seeing a fare reduction?

And plastic materials. Their price was up because of the rising costs of petroleum. Have they lowered their prices?

Ha! Doubtful.

And then I was ticked off.

Not a good way to start my Friday.

One of my very sweet employees, noting my rough mood, offered me a slice of coffee cake. Which I accepted.

These economic times are weird.

And I know I can expect that fuel won’t stay at this gloriously low rate for long.

Strap in people. Bumpy road ahead.

Oh Sweet Hoopty

An open letter to my vehicular friend.

Today as I was driving you to work, I noticed you making an odd and rather unpleasant sound.

I’d like to attribute it to the early morning, because I know that you, like your owner, are not a fan of the cold morning hours.

But it would appear that this isn’t just a hazard of winter chill, because later in the day, when it was warm, you still made that sound.

Which means you have to go see our friend Tony, the trusty mechanic who has carefully protected and maintained you for all of your life.

But it’s more than that. Today, my checkbook lays open before you, at your mercy.

Please, please don’t crap out on me. I need you.

Sure, you’re almost eight years old, but remember the good times?

Remember how I purchased you in late 2001, the last wisp of the model year…the October right after the tragic September 11th when no one was buying cars?

You were the last (and best) of two remaining old model year cars. The end of an era too, as you are the last of your kind, they don’t make you anymore.

Remember how you were the only car the dealer had sold that month? We giggled together at the rockin’ deal I was able to negotiate so I could take you home?

Though almost eight years old now, you’ve been without a car payment for four years. And this is the heart of the issue, dear, sweet vehicle.

You see, times are a little rough. The economy is pretty bad, you know? I mean, hey, gas prices have improved, so that’s something. But Mr. Jones has stolen all my money. Ok, not all, but a good portion, and your humble owner is starting to freak out.

To be fair, so far, I’ve managed to keep a good job with a regular paycheck. And yes, I *could* swing $300 to $500 a month to make payments on a new, shiny car.

But I don’t want to.

That $300 to $500 a month could be better spent on things like food, you know, and uh, necessities of life.

Or, and here’s a fun thought, that $300 to $500 a month could be put in savings in an attempt to rebuild my sagging nest egg.

But these plans, this hope for the future depends on you.

Please, please keep it together. I’m going to take you to be fixed, yes. And I’m even willing to spend a little cash to get that done. But that means you have to help me back. You have to stay solid for a while after the repair.

If you start nickel and diming, or really five-hundred and thousanding me, I’m going to have to reconsider whether you are still a valuable part of the family.

I need you to continue to be the reliable, dependable vehicle you are.

Give me a couple more years, ok? Let me see if I can get my financial feet back under me and we’ll talk about retiring you to a nice life where you can wander the pastures and eat all the motor oil you’d like. But for now, I need you to stay solid and light on the pocketbook.

Plus, The Good Man says he doesn’t believe an American made car can go 100,000 miles. I think we can prove him wrong (only 15k to go!).

I believe in you, fabulous Jeep, now you have to believe in me too!

Not my actual hoopty, but a sibling of….

Great Googelly Moogelly!

I paid two dollars and thirty-three cents a gallon for gas today!

I almost wept! Given that gas was touching five dolla’ a gallon not that long ago, this was AMAZING!

Ok, to be fair, there was a forty-five cent surcharge for using my debit card at the pump. But that’s ok. On twelve total gallons, that brings my price to two dolla’ and thirty-six cents a gallon!

Look!

Unbelievable.

I procured this petrol while out running errands. I have enjoyed going out to stores on quiet weekdays rather than busy weekends.

I’m actually not seeing a slow up in spending. I’m guessing the economy might be doing ok, people are still spending with reckless abandon.

I personally provided my own “stimulus package” to the economy by spending WAY too much money over the past couple days.

Retail therapy always cheers me up!

In other news….from the retail front lines…why are leg warmers back? I was at Target and they had a full rack of leg warmers. They also had also neon colored baby doll socks (perfect for wearing with your patent leather stiletto heels).

When exactly did my HIGH SCHOOL years return to fashion? Look, I wore the rhinestones and vintage clothes and armfulls of black rubber bracelets back in the day. Sure, I was into it.

But looking back on my own personal fashion…well. It is best left in the past.

But no, Target sees fit to return it to me.

Just. Ugh.

Strange days indeed…

Most peculiar, Mama*

If you, like me, sometimes struggle with change…well, then this is NOT our year.

I mean. Let’s start with the election. Both an African American Man and a woman on the main stage. Whoa Nellie!

The economy. Jeebus, I need a seatbelt to stay on this crazy ride!

There’s even a new profession I only just heard of in an article about this economy. A “neuroeconomist”, who studies the biology of economic behavior. Some guy from Emory University is saying we’re all acting like a bunch of scared sheep.

Not sure I disagree.

Several friends have been laid off from jobs and have had a lot of trouble finding a new gig.

Fannie Mae now (unwillingly) owns some 54,000 homes.

Some meaningful people both personally and in society have passed away.

A couple people very dear to me are seriously ill.

My 43-year old friend is preggers (naturally) for the first time.

My big brother is moving to Malaysia…This just after he and his family came through freaking Hurricane Ike.

Gas prices are through the roof. Prices unheard of thus far in our country.

Oh yeah, and for me personally I got married and am potentially changing jobs after almost a decade at one company.

2008 is not for sissies!

And we’re only nine months into this thing!

Holy crap!

If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to retire to the underside of my bed with a tubful of Cherry Garcia, a canister of Valium and my cat.

Call me when things have settled, hey?

*Borrowed liberally from John Lennon. Thanks John!