THE BUMMER ABOUT MOVING AWAY FROM HOME
There are a lot of things that make moving away really fun. The sheer adventure, for one. However, there are a few draw backs.
One of my biggest pet peeves at the moment is not knowing all the shortcuts, ins and outs, and basically, not really having a specific clue about where I'm going.
I know how to get to work. I know how to get to Starbucks (hello! ... there's coffee involved!), and I know how to get to Walmart. But I'm used to not planning how I'm going to get there. I just go. See, I lived in the place I was born and raised. I knew that area like the back of my hand. I didn't have to think about what lane I needed to be in. I just got in it.
Here ... it's a different matter all together. Today for instance ... I told Ann I would pick up the makings for Grilled Pizza after work, if she would stop at her library and pick up some movies (more about that in a moment).
Okay, yes, I will admit that I tried to drive across town on a Friday in August at 5:15 p.m. Yes, I will admit that was a bit of a dumb move. I will further admit that I chose to go THE CONNECTOR (connects the east part of town to the west) straight to 64, a busy highway at that time of night any day, but the numbers are compounded when you add weekend travelers.
I will also sit here with a bit of shame as I fess up to entering Walmart at the exact time as half the population of Frankfort was doing the same, all with long grocery lists, short patience, and recently cashed pay checks.
But it really burned my butt to round the last curve, in a series of curves, in THE CONNECTOR, and see a line of cars the size of Cleveland all waiting to go in the same lane I wanted. CRAP!
So, unwilling to sit in that mess, I drove the indirect route AROUND Walmart to actually get there, narrowly missing cars as I weaved in and out of lanes trying to get into the right ones. They don't do lanes like they do them in the north. It was a fiasco, and, might I add, they don't lay out Walmarts like they do up north. So, I wasted a large amount of time wandering the aisles looking for the few items I needed to make the Grilled Pizza.
By the time I'd fought my way out of Walmart and back on to the main road, I was in no mood to merge with traffic onto 64 ... for fear I might actually drive off the Kentucky Bridge. So, I went out of my way, back to THE CONNECTOR, to get back to Versailles.
I just inherently knew that if you were late for an appointment in Battle Creek, you went over the Washington Street Bridge, or you got caught by a train that was at least 20 minutes long!
It was an automatic thing I knew to do when I hopped in my car, that I didn't want to be in the right lane heading to downtown Jackson, until after I'd passed the old Jacobsen's Store. I didn't have to think about it.
Here, I've got to think ... I've got to plan ... I've got to consult maps ... I've got to look for road signs ... I hate it! I just want to automatically know it.
Oh well ... I guess that's part of the adventure.
One of my biggest pet peeves at the moment is not knowing all the shortcuts, ins and outs, and basically, not really having a specific clue about where I'm going.
I know how to get to work. I know how to get to Starbucks (hello! ... there's coffee involved!), and I know how to get to Walmart. But I'm used to not planning how I'm going to get there. I just go. See, I lived in the place I was born and raised. I knew that area like the back of my hand. I didn't have to think about what lane I needed to be in. I just got in it.
Here ... it's a different matter all together. Today for instance ... I told Ann I would pick up the makings for Grilled Pizza after work, if she would stop at her library and pick up some movies (more about that in a moment).
Okay, yes, I will admit that I tried to drive across town on a Friday in August at 5:15 p.m. Yes, I will admit that was a bit of a dumb move. I will further admit that I chose to go THE CONNECTOR (connects the east part of town to the west) straight to 64, a busy highway at that time of night any day, but the numbers are compounded when you add weekend travelers.
I will also sit here with a bit of shame as I fess up to entering Walmart at the exact time as half the population of Frankfort was doing the same, all with long grocery lists, short patience, and recently cashed pay checks.
But it really burned my butt to round the last curve, in a series of curves, in THE CONNECTOR, and see a line of cars the size of Cleveland all waiting to go in the same lane I wanted. CRAP!
So, unwilling to sit in that mess, I drove the indirect route AROUND Walmart to actually get there, narrowly missing cars as I weaved in and out of lanes trying to get into the right ones. They don't do lanes like they do them in the north. It was a fiasco, and, might I add, they don't lay out Walmarts like they do up north. So, I wasted a large amount of time wandering the aisles looking for the few items I needed to make the Grilled Pizza.
By the time I'd fought my way out of Walmart and back on to the main road, I was in no mood to merge with traffic onto 64 ... for fear I might actually drive off the Kentucky Bridge. So, I went out of my way, back to THE CONNECTOR, to get back to Versailles.
I just inherently knew that if you were late for an appointment in Battle Creek, you went over the Washington Street Bridge, or you got caught by a train that was at least 20 minutes long!
It was an automatic thing I knew to do when I hopped in my car, that I didn't want to be in the right lane heading to downtown Jackson, until after I'd passed the old Jacobsen's Store. I didn't have to think about it.
Here, I've got to think ... I've got to plan ... I've got to consult maps ... I've got to look for road signs ... I hate it! I just want to automatically know it.
Oh well ... I guess that's part of the adventure.
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