Last night I did something I haven't done since I was 16 years old.

I ran out of gas.

Truth be told, I deserved it. I push the limits of my gas tank and ignore that little red "need fuel" light regularly. I'd drive for days with that thing lit up before I'd finally stop and fuel up.
I just hate getting gas. It's cold out there and it stinks and I'm always rushing wherever it is I'm going and I hate to take the time to stop ... .

My husband has chided me driving with the "need fuel" light on for years. It always made him nuts when he saw the light was on and somehow I always managed to time it just right -- so that he was driving somewhere when I needed gas. He'd always stop and fill it up for me. I'd sit in the nice warm car and wait like the little princess I am -- just hand me my tiara.

I knew I was pushing the limits yesterday when I called him on my way home from work to tell him I was skipping the gym and coming right home and that something was wrong with my gas guage because it kept flipping wildly from full to empty. I asked him if he'd go get me gas when I got home so that he could see it for himself (yes, my not-so-sly way of getting him to go get me gas). He agreed (because he's a sucker and he loves me) and I said I'd be home in a few minutes.

Pulled onto my road and sputter, sputter, sputter....my luck ran out.
I grabbed the cell phone (thank God for cell phones) and called the husband back and said "Or, you could just bring some gas to me now."

I sat in my car reading through some work I'd brought home and he rode to my rescue a few minutes later -- laughing, of course.

I got out as he was filling my car and a co-worker -- a press man -- came out of a nearby house to chastise the "organization queen" for running out of gas.

Hey, even the mightiest queens and princesses stumble sometimes.

You just call your white knight, brush off your tiara and move on.

Lesson learned -- I will no longer drive with the red light on for more than one day. Two at the most.