I hate my car when it needs gas. I feel as if it is telling me what to do. My car can be so needy.

The “low fuel” light exacerbates all of my problems. It is a reminder of all the little things that I don’t have time to, nor have the desire. That little light on the dash with the obnoxious dingy sound can really stir up a load of problems even though I should be grateful just to have a car with wheels (let alone lights and dingy things). Complaining about having to put gas in my car is like inquiring about Uncle Ricky’s Bible study class moments before asking about his meth addiction at the Christmas table- it turns (what should be) a good situation into a hornet’s nest of chaos and frustration.

The gentle reminder that I need to stop and get gas begins a domino effect into just how incredibly difficult it is for this special snowflake and his uniquely intricate and complex life. The “low fuel” light reminds me that I have to :

Stop regularly for gas.

Take the trash to the curb, every single week.

Take the stupid clothes to the cleaners after occasions which I have to dress with some decency.

Do my taxes every year.

Get my oil changed every three months.

Get a gosh damn haircut, what seems like every day.

Go to the dentist, what seems like every week.

Go to the grocery.

Make my bed.

Replace my a/c filter.

It’s all just too much. Pretty soon I am the victim of my own existence. The day to day tasks that I am privileged to participate in become a chore and suddenly I am overwhelmed and frustrated.

In situations like these, it is usually best to take a deep breath and put some gas in the car, but I ain’t exactly the guy to be writing books on how to make it through life with ease and grace.

Take it easy today.

Leave the worrying to me. Believe me, I’m on top of it.

Peace, Love, and all things Beef related,

Beefcake

 

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