The Mental State of My GPS
I guess the symptoms have been there. Last January I nicknamed him Bossy Aussie for the way he kept yelling at me:
"Don't make me come out of this box! Make a U turn RIGHT NOW!"
Ok, maybe he didn't say that last one, but he did start making imperious demands. Do not pass GO. Do not collect $200. All I did was make a detour to Starbucks, sheesh!
Then, a month later, he started taking his time finding the satellite. How hard can it be? Clear sky, familiar territory, but he just can't find the stinking thing. Good grief. By the time he deigns to find our location, we're not there anymore.
Maybe it's my fault. Maybe I shouldn't ask him for directions and then ignore him. But let's face it, he doesn't always choose the best route. Sometimes, he sends me through lots of traffic. Or off on some strange road. Gotta ignore that, right?
I guess it might be because he doesn't know where he lives. What can I say? My husband pointed out that it's not smart to save our actual home address in the GPS, so I saved a spot nearby, so any would-be car thieves will only find a field, not my home. So poor Bossie might be confused. Why do I wake him up somewhere else? Does he think I'm a bad influence, not sleeping where he KNOWS our home must be?
Maybe it's an ego thing. I did use the GPS on my cell phone once or twice, but only because of Bossie's "locating satellite" issues. It's nice to get the directions before you've gone too far out of your way, right?
But I came back to Bossie Aussie. I like his voice. His screen has a little meat on it, as opposed to my skinnier-than-thou phone with its small print. Bossie and I have traveled so many roads together.
I guess I should probably stand by him during his darkest hours. Maybe tomorrow I'll let him make a few U turns, too.
Anyone know a good GPS shrink?