I am mad at my GPS.
I’ve been using a GPS to find my destinations for a long time now. I have very little memory of how I got from point A to point B prior to me owning a GPS. You see, I am a directionally challenged person. I depend on my wonderful little piece of technology to tell me exactly where to go. Everyone who knows me knows just how poor my sense of direction is. And I’m fine with acknowledging my shortcoming.
“Hi. My name is Marcus and I’m an aimless wanderer.”
I can picture God laying out his plans for me. He was gathering all the “things that make me me” on His lab bench. He put the jar of all five senses on the table. He grabbed the big jar of “amusing”. Grabbed the jar of “tall”. He grabbed the very small jar of “youthful athletic talent” (it was more like an eye-dropper). And when He was reaching for the jar of “sense of direction” it dropped to the floor and spilled out. He wasn’t planning on making more “directional sense” on that particular morning, so He skipped it thinking to Himself, “I’ll just set this Marcus guy with a good wife and I’ll be sure to give her double the serving.”
When I am on the move, I use my GPS (or my wife) constantly. Even in my own neighborhood I have trouble remembering which way the local wings shop is. Do I take a right or left when I reach the road that it is on? It’s amazing on how often I can screw up the 50/50 choice. It seems like I should be correct half of the time, right? Not so much. And for the record, I believe that there is nothing wrong with turning around. That’s why cars have steering wheels. My lack of direction sense has heightened my ability to pull a U-turn almost anywhere. There is no curb tall enough to stop me.
Oh, and if you are going to be giving me directions while I’m traveling, you need to do it just like my GPS does—one turn at a time. People give me directions like this: “Make a left at the next light, drive beyond the school and make another left onto Mill Street, and then a right on Elm.” You know what I hear? “Make a left.” And then you will have to repeat it again.
I have a forty-five minute commute to work every day. I’ve been working at the same office for quite some time now. I truly believe that I can find my office without the assistance of my GPS, but it is really cool to watch the estimated time of arrival as I’m driving to work. Am I going to be late? Nope, the GPS is always accurate to the minute. It’s amazing.
Ok, fine! I use my GPS on the way to work to avoid getting lost. There. I said it. You happy now?
So why am I mad at my GPS? The destinations that I have saved into my GPS are stored in a menu that is labeled “My Favorites”. This is fairly typical of GPS units. But I am mad at my GPS because every morning when I punch up my work place as my destination, I have to acknowledge my work place as one of “My Favorites”. It’s not. I have a good job that pays my bills, but is my work place my “favorite” destination? Not really. The beach, an amusement park, a casino, or a good restaurant would make a list of “My Favorite” destination places.
My GPS taunts me, “Acknowledge that your job is your ‘favorite’ or I won’t tell you how to get there! Say it!”
Damn you GPS. Damn you.
In a sheepishly quiet voice, “…my work is my favorite place in the world. Now please tell me how to get there.”
The GPS responds, “Recalculating. You’re my Favorite loser.”