I’m not sure why I do this, but I ALWAYS let my car go to the lowest possible point before it hits empty.

I am always driving on empty. Always.

I know it’s bad for the car, and it’s probably not my smartest move, but I’ve been doing this for as long as I’ve been driving. It’s a personality flaw.

It’s almost like I enjoy tempting fate, to see how long I can get the car to run on gas fumes. It’s a habit that drives my husband crazy. He doesn’t understand it. At all. Right now, as I write this, my car is teetering around the empty mark. The “empty” light has been on for at least two days, but I can’t bring myself to stop and fill up the tank. I know I can go just a little bit further.

I like to see how low I can get it. And to be honest, I’ve never run out of gas. Ever. A fact I continue to share with Jon, who doesn’t see the cuteness in this particular quality of mine. Nothing frustrates Jon more than when we all happen to pile into my car to go somewhere, he’s in the drivers seat, and the light comes on.

“Of course your car’s on empty,” He always says. I tell him that we “have plenty of gas to get us where we’re headed.” But directly to the gas station he goes. And then I can count on the lecture starting.

“Dara, it’s really bad for the car. You shouldn’t do this.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better next time.” But I have no intention of doing better “next time.”

Recently, I was with a group of friends, and one wanted someone to follow her to the gas station. She was “really on empty.” Her car was telling her she had “only twenty miles left.” Twenty miles. I could drive forever on that.

It’s kind of funny, don’t you think? What sets each of us off, and what individual quirks we each have. But if this is the worst thing I ever do, I consider myself lucky. And Jon should also.

Find meaning each day,

Dara