I think the older I get the more clearly defined my comfort zones become. Over the years my tastes in hotels have changed drastically--no longer is the cheapest the best option. For instance, I used to be able to put up with the faint smell of cigarette smoke lingering in the room--now, I'm either switching rooms or switching hotels. Just can't stand it.
Well, I survived. The bathroom was bypassed, as was the snack food, but the car had gas--and it got me home safe and sound.
My next road trip is in a month--back to Chicago for Printer's Row Lit Fest, and I'll make sure not to let the gas get so low again!