I Just Can't Carry On Any More

If anyone tells you, when the fuel light comes up on the car dashboard, that you've got at least 30 miles-worth left in the tank... you might want to correct them.

Happened to me last week - light came up, spent the rest of the day doing short hops around London, while half-heartedly keeping an eye out for petrol stations without success. Driving back late at night, totally fed up after a really good day that I knew all along was going to end utterly miserably (you know who you are), on the way back the few petrol stations whose locations I knew were all shut.

Approaching Putney Hill I remembered one that I knew would be open, less than 3 miles away.

But it's not a shallow hill. And what little fuel there was left must've all shifted to one end of the tank. So the car started spluttering and then stopped. Halfway up a hill.

Initial management:
Handbrake, hazard lights, profuse swearing.

Further management:
More swearing.

Then I thought, if I could free wheel back and turn into a side road, the petrol would move & at least I'd be able to start engine again & drive somewhere avoiding the hill.

Nup - the power steering wouldn't work with the engine off & I couldn't help steering back into the kerb.


I don't like relying on people when I don't absolutely have to (apart from at work where there are appropriate colleagues to share problems with).
But like anyone at times of non-life-threatening crisis, there are certain people you instinctively go to for help or support.

Like when you're feeling so ill you want to die (even if it's just a cold).
Or when anything else really bad but completely get-over-able happens and you just need someone.


Muuuu-um.

A short while later, Dad drives up bearing a plastic can full of petrol.
Not once does he say "Told you" (which was probably worse 'cos at least then I could say something in return), he just helps me fill up & we go home.


Moral of the story: Never forget family.
I'm really lucky that we are quite close and we've never had any real problems with each other, as I know many families have had.

In this world, there are only a few people with which you have a true permanent connection; a special connection that you don't share with the remaining 6 million vertical apes jostling for attention on this big ball of rock.

If ever you can, fight to preserve what you have - love (or at least tolerate & be there for) your family.


Saying that, I probably ought to get in touch with them actually, I haven't seen them since... oops...