Have I mentioned how much I hate the GPS in my car? This is not a new situation, I’ve hated the GPS in my car since… well, since I got the GPS. Perhaps I’m too much of a free spirit (or too stubborn) to listen to a very annoying voice telling me which direction to head in, or perhaps I just cringe every time she mispronounces a street name. (i.e. Pinaster Parade in Ellenbrook somehow becomes ‘Penis-ter’, and for some reason she insists on pronouncing Mirrabooka Drive as though it’s a spell out of a Harry Potter book).
Anyhoo… yesterday, Bonnie picked up an extra shift at Gamesworld – not at Cannington, but over at their other store in Booragoon.
Now all things being equal, the answer to ‘Can I do a shift at Booragoon’ should have been a resounding no. I’ve swung from a manic episode, plunged into a depression, and swung back into manic in the past month – consequently I avoid driving because frankly, I’m probably dangerous behind the wheel and I’m not focused enough to be driving (in my opinion). But years of conditioning to automatically say ‘yes’ to all and everything I’m asked to do (regardless of whether it’s something I want to do, or I’m capable of doing) got in the way.
I said yes.
And immediately began to stress over it, because Bonnie couldn’t get to Booragoon by public transport, and the boys were all at work, and Steve is currently in Sydney working – which meant I had to get her to Booragoon.
Which leads back to the GPS. I kind of know the way to Booragoon, but thought it would be better to use the GPS, because that way, (supposedly), I wouldn’t have to think about where I was going.
We set off (happily, leaving plenty of time at the other end for Bonza to figure out where in Garden City the Gamesworld Store happens to be) and ‘Miss GPS’ automatically shits me to death by insisting that I should turn left at Wharton Road, which I knew would lead me to Armadale Road, and from there, onto the freeway… which is the one road that I do NOT want to drive on. The freeway on the best of days makes my anxiety peak… and trust me, you do not want to suffer a panic attack on a freeway – it’s not good ju-ju.
Consequently, I tell Miss GPS to mind her own business and continue around the roundabout to continue up Nicholson Road. She decides she should ‘recalculate’.
We get along amiably until we get onto South Street, at which point she announces we should turn left onto Roe Highway… which leads us back to the freeway…
I can begin to feel tension rising in the my shoulders, and I’m clutching the steering wheel to the point where my fingernails are digging into the material, a sure sign that I’m heading towards panic. The roads around here are busy, and as I mentioned above… I probably should have said no.
Tell Miss GPS to mind her own business and continue down South Street.
She decides to recalculate.
We reach Murdoch and sure enough, Miss GPS is all ‘turn right, turn right’… onto the freeway.
At this point, I find myself in a turn right only lane, (to go onto the freeway) surrounded by traffic, and my stress levels increase.
Manage to get out of that lane, call Miss GPS a few choice words in my head, and sail on down South Street. We get to the next intersection, and again, Miss GPS insists we should turn right, but by this time, I’m convinced that it’s a plot to get me back to the freeway…so I ignore her and continue.
Which is followed by Miss GPS assuring me, regularly, that now I need to TURN BACK.
Decide I have no choice but to turn back (and South Street is a very busy street too) and find that Miss GPS was actually right and we DID have to turn.
By now, I’m practicing my breathing exercises to avoid having to pull over, my palms are sweating, my heart is racing and I’m not a happy bunny.
Finally get to Garden City and I spend ten minutes in the carpark, punching random buttons on Miss GPS until I come across a ticked box which says ‘Always use freeways where possible’
Unticked the bloody thing and came home, where I proceeded to collapse into a chair and remind myself again why I shouldn’t attempt these things when I know the answer to the request should be ‘No, I’m afraid I can’t do that.’
I live in hope that I’ll learn this lesson.