Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Don't follow me, I'm lost.

In this day and age of GPS tracking systems and navigation devices, it's ridiculous that anyone should find themselves driving around for over an hour and a half completely discombobulated especially in an area where they've lived for over six years.  Yeah, right.  Tell that to this rambling lunatic housewife.  Perhaps someone could have calmed my nerves when I was half way across the grand state of Colorado instead of watching the evening news with my husband last night. 

To give you, my dear friends and blog readers, some background information as to how pathetic I am, never ever hand me an actual paper map.  I consider these only good for one thing: drink coasters.  In my opinion, men invented these ridiculous atrocities.  Even the fold is abhorrent.  I have never been able to refold one of these bastards properly - which - might I add, is a clear sign I was the last family member to look at one - or at least use it for my soda glass.

While I'm on the topic of paper maps, seriously - how does one decipher these boogers anyway?  The mileage charts?  What's that all about?  I used to hold my thumb and index finger against it and do the whole "vacation mileage calculation" thing.  I would work out the cost of the mileage and explain it to Eric only to have him laugh at me.

"What do you mean it will only cost $300 round trip to go from Denver to Galveston, Texas?  How did you come up with the dollar amount?"

"I figured it out using the little doohickey measuring line and my fingers on the map.  Why?"

Once, in a moment of complete desperation, Eric handed me a paper map and asked me to find our way out of the mountains.  I'll never forget his look of complete astonishment as he watched me turn the map upside down, then left, right, and upside down again while the entire time I called out turns.  He promptly pulled the car over and had me drive.  Needless to say, maps make no sense to me.

Back to last night.  After my religious education class, I went to pick up Austynn at his respite provider's house towards the airport.  I've been to her house a dozen times; however, last night it was late, I was hungry, and Banshee had arrived causing me serious discomfort.  I wanted to get home a little faster than usual.  I decided to take a shortcut.  WRONG!  I should never, ever take a different route - especially one that I'm unfamiliar with - when I have so much going against me.  PLUS, I had a tired, grumpy Austynn in the car.  What was I thinking? 

My single saving grace living in Colorado has always been the directional guide of the mountains.  Knowing that the mountains are west helps me find my way home in the most difficult of situations.  Also, knowing the patterns of the foothills for instance, the Boulder Flatirons, can tell me when I'm close to home.  Unfortunately, there was no moon out last night.  I couldn't see the mountains.  I was helpless.  I took a road with no street lights, signals, or signs.  I got turned around.  I went too far.  I went east on a freeway when I should have gone west.  Before I knew it, I was 50 miles north of the Colorado border with no immediate exit in site.  The highways in my state are such that when one gets to the rural communities, the miles between exits can stretch forever. 

The first exit I came to looked like another freeway on ramp.  I skipped that one.  Wrong move!  Dammit!  Just a Shell Gas Station!  I could have stopped there.  Maybe I could have bought a map? 

"Mom?"  Oh boy, Austynn just woke up.  Could my night get any better?  ""Are we lost?"

"Me lost?  You betcha."

"I'm going back ta sleep."

"Please do."

For my time and money saving efforts, last night's typical 20 minute drive home cost me an hour and a half and over $16 in back and forth fees on the toll roads.  Was I slightly annoyed when I walked in the house at 9:15pm?  You betcha.