Finally ran head-on into one of the perils of living in the country. Put in a late night Tuesday. Spoke to the Floyd Women's Club, then returned to the studio to work. Noticed when I was driving back to The Jacksonville Center that I needed gas. "That's OK," I thought. "I'll get some on the way home." Amy called at 11:15. "When are you coming home?" Looked at my watch. Damn. The last gas station in Floyd closed at 11. "Not coming home," I said. "Why not?" "Out of gas." "I'll come get you." "Not this time of night." It's a 38-mile roundtip from the farm and back.

Finally ran head-on into one of the perils of living in the country.

Put in a late night Tuesday. Spoke to the Floyd Women’s Club, then returned to the studio to work. Noticed when I was driving back to The Jacksonville Center that I needed gas.

“That’s OK,” I thought. “I’ll get some on the way home.”

Amy called at 11:15.

“When are you coming home?”

Looked at my watch.

Damn.

The last gas station in Floyd closed at 11.

“Not coming home,” I said.

“Why not?”

“Out of gas.”

“I’ll come get you.”

“Not this time of night.” It’s a 38-mile roundtip from the farm and back.

So I piled some pillows up on the floor of the studio and crashed until 6 a.m.

Got up, did some computer work, stopped for gas, drove home, took a shower, changed clothes, and was back in the studio by 9.

Ah, life in the country.

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