This morning when Joey and I left our house, the air was dark, heavy and damp, kind of like we were walking around with our heads poking out of a wet sleeping bag.  (Which I’m glad we weren’t.)

“Oh, we’ve gotta go get gas,” Joey mentioned.

We couldn’t put it off, so we hit the 7-11 on Skillman.  We pulled our shiny little Corolla into a spot and Joey began to pump the gas.

“Did you notice the price?” Joey popped his head in the car.

“No…” I said, dreading that it had jumped up to $10 overnight or something.  We fill up probably twice a month, so we don’t pay too close attention to the price fluctuation.

“Go look” he said.  “It’s $3.13.”

“WHAT?” I gasped, and dashed out of the car with my camera.

There it was, in red and white.  Gas was nearing $3.00 a gallon again, and I remember just several months ago paying over $4.00.  The times, they are a changin’.

We filled up our little gas tank for under $40.00 for the first time in…a long, long time.  I had to take a picture.  I mean, check that number out!