...is the sound my truck makes as it's guzzling down a full tank of gas for the second time this week. I usually go to the 76 station on Lovejoy on my way to work and this morning, the gas attendant actually recognized me. He said (and I quote): "Wow, I can't beleive your back again so soon!" It's gotten to the point where I had to introduct myself..to the gas attendant...we are now on a first name basis. Did I mention that the signature line on the back of my debit card has worn off??? Not just the signature, but the line itself...ouch...
However, on the bright side, I saw something today during my drive that I wouldn't have if I worked in Portland. Hot air balloons. This morning was a rare, clear morning with bright blue skys and a warm breeze. I saw them, tiny in the distance, as I wound my way around the Terwilliger Curves, drove under their baskets by Willsonville, and passed one still on the ground by the time I reached Aurora. By the time I reached the Woodburn exit, it occured to me that it would take some heavy-duty convincing for me to get into a hot air balloon on Friday the 13th. Call me supersitious, but I would rather not tempt fate, especially when She has already delt me a $120 per week gas bill...
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