The Other Woman

7 June 2011
The Other Woman
So The Prince Consort announces after dinner that the next day was his last day at work. He was retiring. HUH? 
And he has plans. Traveling. Lots of fun time. Oookay. I’m seeing my writing time disappear. But traveling … 
So we start small. A day trip to explore a good fishing lake. I like fishing. Not because I fish. But because I love the quiet in the midst of infinite beauty. It’s time I can use for writing while TPC fishes. Win win. 
I get in the car to make the trip. And she’s already sitting in front. My nemesis, Brumhilda, the GPS. Brumhilda and I do Not get along. She’s an evil witch who loves nothing more than to send us around and around on the same city circumferential highway. (Something we fell for twice in one day in Cincinnati. Okay, on two Cincy trips.) 
If we ignore her and turn right because we already know that’s south, and we’re headed south, she gets snarky. First with the slightly aggravated “Recalculating.” Then as we ignore her, the “recalculating” pitch rises and she goes from “I’m sighing because these two are idiots” tone to “For pity sake, what is wrong with you two. Do what I say!” snarly tone. 
After the last time when Brumhilda so misdirected us that it took an hour to get back on a known road, I hid her. Unlike the peanut butter, which TPC cannot find because it is behind the tomato soup instead of in the front row in the pantry, he can find Brumhilda no matter where I put her. 
Since I didn’t know the witch was going with us to the lake, I came armed with a map and directions off the internet. Hah. Good thing. Big surprise, Brumhilda couldn’t find a lake if I threw her into it. Hmmmm. 
Kath 

Comments

  1. Funny -- makes me just as glad we don't have one of those robot guides.

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