This past week, I’ve been commuting to school. Now that good ol’ finals season is upon us, I thought, “Why not move back home early?” I only live 35 to 40 mintues away from Chapel Hill, and I only need to actually be on campus three more days. Since I live pretty close, I’m comfortable driving without a GPS. But this past week, I was going home directly from the RR lot, and your girl got lost.
This Tuesday, instead of taking my usual route off Farrington road, I wanted to go on I40. The highway was calling me, and I didn’t want to deal with winding roads after taking a final that positively drained me, so I went on my merry way, thinking that if I drove west to get to Chapel Hill, I should drive east back. Well, apparently not? To be honest, I’m not too sure what exactly happened, but wow, I had no idea where I was.
This entire time, my GPS on my phone just wasn’t working. I restarted the map app multiple times, and I had even pulled over once to download Google maps and try there. But every time I entered in my home address and hit “Go,” my phone couldn’t find my exact location. Yeah, it showed me where I roughly was, but my phone couldn’t figure out how to get me from point A to point B. By this time, I started getting pretty frustrated and a little worried. By the time I passed a sign pointing towards RDU, I knew I was in some pretty deep trouble.
I took the closest exit and parked in a strip mall parking lot. I was pretty frustrated at myself, and I decided to call my parents.
My mom just kept sending me screenshots of my location, which I share with her, but that was no help at all, considering my location wasn’t accurate. Then, she put me on the phone with my dad, who loves driving. I really thought my dad would just have an easy answer, telling me which highway and exit to take to finally get back home.
The conversation went a little like this:
Me: My dad:
Eventually, I hung up. My GPS wasn’t working, my parents had no clue how to help and, while I had a map in my glovebox, I have no freaking clue how to read that thing. Subsequently, I did what every rational 19-year-old would do when she gets lost on her way home after a draining final. I parked in a strip mall and screamed. I just let it all out. I shouted a couple times, and then my anger was all gone. But I was still pretty frustrated at myself for just not going the way I knew all along, and I was on the verge of tears. I took some calming breaths and turned on some Kacey Musgraves, hoping to calm myself down.
After my little temper tantrum was out of the way, I picked up my phone, which I honestly wanted to chuck out my window at the time, and tried both navigational apps again. The apps couldn’t find my exact location and tell me verbally what to do, but this time, they had a list of directions. I read them over and made a game plan. I memorized the first couple of directions, put my car in drive and hoped for the best.
At 7:30, two hours after I started up my car, I got home. I have never been so happy to see my house, the cracked driveway and our dying bushes. When I opened the door, I pet my dog, told my parents I didn’t want to talk about it and promptly fell on the couch. My phone is still kinda broken, but now I know I can find my way home. The takeaway of all this? Learn how to read a map, just in case.