I’ve always had a keen sense of direction.
After my first day of kindergarten, I was eager for another first: riding home on the big yellow school bus. What I didn’t realize was that I got on the wrong bus. As the driver made what she thought was her final drop off, I saw her concern when she spotted me in the oversized rear view mirror still sitting several rows back.
This is where my top-notch sense of direction came in handy. She drove as I navigated us to my house. She was impressed; my parents were proud.
All this to say — I never thought I’d be someone bound to GPS. Then, I moved to Los Angeles in 2019.
I always planned to ditch GPS — an acronym for Global Positioning System — after getting my bearings. But almost six years later, I found myself continuing to use it, turn by turn, even for routes I’d taken for years — work, a friend’s house, the park I love and even the grocery store down the street.
I blame the sprawling neighborhoods and sporadic clusters of traffic. It was a jarring change from Indianapolis, where single lane roads cut through cornfields and you could get across town in less than 20 minutes. In my new adopted city, where commuting takes up so much of our time, the minutes feel critical. One wrong turn feels damning.
In my new adopted city — where commuting takes up so much of our time — the minutes feel critical. One wrong turn feels damning.
A couple months ago, I decided enough was enough. I was tired of my eyes ping-ponging between the road and the map on screen, and tired of my frustration mounting when my ETA ticked up. I became more and more aware of how this affected my…
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