I’d Like to Report a Robbery at Pump #4 ⛽️

There are certain moments in life when you realize things have gotten a little ridiculous. Like when your dog looks at you because you opened a bag of chips, when you walk into a room and immediately forget why you went there, or when you pull up to the gas station, look at the price on the sign, and quietly whisper, “Absolutely not.” Unfortunately, the car still needs gas. And right now, gas is hovering around $4.15 a gallon.

Four dollars and fifteen cents. For gasoline. The stuff that goes into my car and then disappears. Honestly, I feel like I should at least get a tiny gift bag when I fill up. Maybe a candle. Perhaps a little cheese plate. At these prices, I expect the gas station attendant to hand me a receipt and say, “Thank you for your purchase. Your personal financial advisor will be in touch.”

I drive a Subaru. It is a perfectly nice vehicle, but it is not a Bentley. It does not have a personal chauffeur. It does not serve me champagne. It doesn't even automatically bring me a snack. Yet every time I fill the tank, the transaction feels suspiciously like I just purchased something extravagant. I used to pull into the gas station and fill up without giving it much thought. Now I approach the pump like I'm making an important investment decision. “Okay... how much do I actually need? Can I make it through Tuesday? What if I don't go anywhere this weekend? Do I really need to go to Target?”

That last question is particularly dangerous because we all know the answer is yes. But suddenly I'm calculating whether I can afford the gasoline required to get there.

I swear I look at my gas gauge differently now. Half a tank used to mean, “I'm fine.” Now half a tank means, “DON'T GET COCKY.” Three-quarters of a tank feels like a luxury, and a completely full tank? Look at me. Living large. I might as well put on a silk robe and walk around the house carrying a tiny dog.

When the gauge gets down to a quarter tank, I start having a conversation with myself. “Okay, we should probably get gas.” “But it's expensive.” “Yes, but we need gas.” “Maybe we can just drive carefully.” “That is not how gasoline works.” “Fine.”

Before gasoline got this expensive, I might have thought, “I need to run to the store.” Now I think, “What else can I accomplish while I'm out?” If I'm going to use gasoline to leave my house, we're getting our money's worth. Grocery store? Yep. Pharmacy? Yep. Post office? Throw it in the car. Return something? Add it to the list. Need one thing from the other side of town? Absolutely not. That can wait.

At this point, I am trying to combine errands like I'm planning a military operation. I don't make trips anymore. I make missions. And every mission needs to be worth the gasoline.

The hardest part is that gasoline is one of those things you can't really avoid. You can cut back on eating out. You can skip buying something. You can decide that you don't really need that new throw pillow. But your car? Your car doesn't care about your budget. It simply sits there in the driveway like, “Feed me.”

And I'm standing there thinking, “Do you have any idea what you cost me?”

The car, of course, has no response. It just needs gas. Very demanding for something that spends most of its time parked.

I miss the days when filling up the tank was just part of running errands. Now I feel like I need to mentally prepare myself before pulling into the station. I look at the price. I sigh. I swipe my card. I watch the numbers climb, and then I stand there staring at the pump as though perhaps the amount will suddenly become a typo.

Twenty dollars.

Thirty dollars.

Forty dollars.

Fifty dollars.

“Please stop.”

Sixty dollars.

“Okay, that's enough.”

The car: “I am not full.”

Me: “Neither is my bank account.”

And yet somehow, I still drive away. Because apparently this is adulthood.

So if you see me driving less, it's not because I suddenly became a homebody. It's because gasoline costs $4.15 a gallon and I have started treating every mile like it has a service charge. I'm going to combine errands. I'm going to think twice before making unnecessary trips. I'm going to stare suspiciously at the gas station sign every time I drive past. And I'm probably going to complain about it, because that's what I do.

But there is one thing I refuse to do. I'm not going to let expensive gas completely ruin my Saturday. The dogs are sleeping. The house is quiet. The coffee is good. And right now, everything is fine.

Besides, I'm not going anywhere.

Have you seen what gasoline costs? 😂

I'll be right here, with my full tank, guarding it like it's a retirement account.