My Morning.....

In the interest of getting through the rest of my day, I am going to vent about my morning.  My co-workers here don’t care - they all have work to do. So, I’m sending it out into the mysterious cyber world instead. It’s the Tuesday after the long Labor Day weekend. I get up and ready and out the door by 7:35am. (I don’t have to be at work until 8:30am, so this will give me plenty of time to stop at Starbucks before going in.) I turn on the radio (Carrie Underwood is on) and the heater (there’s a chill in the air, but it’s a gorgeous morning). It’s a short week of work, my hair looks good and I’m feeling great! It’s the first day of work for my new broker, so I’m sure it will be a good day.  There will be plenty to do.

I am driving along on Route 2 (not too far from home but past Eddie) and I see tail lights up ahead.  Rats!  There’s going to be a delay. No worries though. Worse case: I’ll have to skip Starbucks. Probably didn’t need to spend the money anyway.  I decide to pull out my GPS merely to gauge what time I will arrive at work (one of its many FABULOUS features).  I have the box, but I don’t have the cords and such to plug it into the car. I had it in David’s car this weekend and I guess I left the cords at my apartment on the bed.  Oh well, it should be juiced up and ready to go. I turn it on and see I will arrive at work at 8:23. Perfect.

After a minute or two I notice that traffic is not moving at all!  I’m stuck.  I get a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach and glance down at the gas gauge. Two dots. Well, I can make it to the shell station before Route 3. No problem. After all I have the extra 8 minutes.   

Huh….still not really moving. Just creeping along. Brake, gas, brake, gas, brake…..one dot and a green light. Panic starts to set in. I’m going to run out of gas on Route 2 in the middle of morning traffic.  Usually when panic sets in, I look to David. I’m not sure he knows the meaning of panic and he certainly doesn’t exercise it.  I dial his cell and quickly hang up.  Maybe it didn’t ring. I shouldn’t bother him. He’s at work and what’s he going to do from downtown anyway. I can handle it. Grown-up time.  I can do it…..Where’s Dad??  Ha!  Well…..I’ll call his desk phone. Then at least if he answers, I’ll know he’s not in a meeting or in the middle of fixing someone’s computer….no answer.  I’m starting to feel hot and sweaty. Panic prayer.  Probably should have done that first, right? Maybe one day I’ll learn. 

A car in the left lane does a U-turn in the grass and gets on the highway going the other direction.  It flies by as there is no traffic that way. I pull up the fuel stations on my GPS.  There is one 0.2 miles away going the other direction.  The nearest one going my direction is 4.8 miles away.  That could take a half hour the way things are moving.  I work my way over to the left lane.  Here’s my reasoning:  If I don’t make it and get stuck in the grass ditch median place, I’ll at least be out of the way of everyone else.  The tow truck can come get me after the traffic dies down. I have a camera in my purse. I’ll take a photo.  I’ll blog it.  It’ll be funny one day. If I ride it out another 2 miles (15-20 minutes) and run out of gas on the highway then I’m just adding to the traffic and I’ll be completely mortified as the cars have to maneuver around me.  The panic makes me brave.  I can do it.  I make my way to the left lane and semi-close my eyes.  Here goes.  I make it!  I’m on the highway going 65mph in the opposite direction.  It’s 8:10.  The last dot it gone. I’m running on reserves or fumes.  I go to the dairy mart and notice I’m still in MARLBOUROUGH!  I’m at the station right next to the parking lot where David parks in the morning to catch the bus.  Good News: I know where I am and I am on the way to a gas station.  Bad News: I’m really far from work and I’m going to be a little late.  The station is full and I have to wait my turn. Of course I get behind the truck with the old man who has to go in and get his coffee.  I see other cars move in and out. I picked the slow gas line.  By now the music has moved from country and rock.  I’m hot and tense.  I hate being late to work.

I don’t want to get on Route 2 again.  But I really don’t know another way. This is one case the GPS doesn’t help. All it does is try to get me back on Route 2.  I try a road that appears to be running the same direction as Route 2.  I’m in a neighborhood.  A winding 30 miles an hour street with a few kids still waiting for the bus.  “Make a U-Turn”……”Make a U-Turn” the GPS keeps telling me.  I ignore it.  Eventually it will get on board with the direction I am going.    I get to the end of the road. I have to go left or right. Rats!  I’m lost. I made a U-turn and got back on creeping Route 2.  It’s 8:28am. 

I call work. Jeanne answers. She transfers me to Jay, who comes from that direction as well.  I tell him my next exit  - 11. Take 83 to 94, he tells me.  Okay.  I can do that.  I exit 11 and follow the string of cars in front of me.  All those CT license plates – they should know what to do.  I never see 83.  I end up on the New London Turnpike (a small two lane road) with lights and cars going 30mph.  I follow the line.  It’s 8:40am. I hear on the radio that the problem was at Exit 10.  One more exit and I would have been home free.  Rats! Now I’m on this road with all the other dummies who thought it would be faster. 

My GPS beeps.  LOW BATTERY it blinks.  Really?  Now?  I feel my eyes start to sting. They start to tear up.  It’s 8:53 and I have no idea where I am.  Good news: I can drive around lost for hours with the full tank I have now. Bad news: my head starts to pound. I take a handful of ibuprofen.  Panic prayer.  I turn off the GPS because I need it to get to class tonight.  I need to save the batteries. I follow the line of cars.  My neck hurts.  Then I see it…..a sign to Route 2.  9:02am I exit Brainard Road and head to the office.  There are two traffic lights that I have to get through on Wethersfield Ave.  The first one is green.  The second is green, but I have to make a left. There are on-coming cars. I stop and wait.  I second later I hear really loud screeching tires right behind me.  I look up.  There is a man in a “less than desirable” car almost on my bumper ranting and raving at me.  What did I do?  I couldn’t turn into on-coming  traffic.  The tears start.  The stress is too much.  I lose it 30 seconds from the office.  9:15am (45 minutes late) I walk into the building.  Eyes puffy, but hopefully partly disguised from make-up.  “Good morning!” I fake a smile. “I decided to go ahead and come on in this morning.”  Al half smiles. No comment.  I slink to my desk.