An odd day

Well, I have been an arch procrastinator yet again. Today is the last day to renew my car tabs. That would not be a problem except that before I can renew the car tabs, I have to go to the emission testing place. Going to the emission testing place is waaaaaay worse than going to the dentist. Actually, my dentist and his staff are friendly and fabulous, and I usually enjoy visiting them, so that is not a good comparison. Let’s say instead, the gynecologist. The nearest emission place used to be in the far north reaches of Seattle, where I think that it actually isn’t even Seattle anymore. It is on a horrible street which is a miles long strip mall, interspersed with seedy hotels where the ladies of the evening ply their trade. One drives forever, and when finally there, misses it completely since its tiny sign is lost among the glaring billboards and flashing neon. Usually, Rebecca comes with me and navigates, but she was not available for that duty today. When I looked its odious address up on the computer, thus giving me slightly better odds at actually finding it, the computer told me to put in my zip code to find the nearest one. I did this, and found one not far away at all. And in the opposite, far more pleasant, direction. I looked at the map and pictured exactly where it was. Margaret and I took off, filled with optimism. I found it with no trouble at all. There were no lines. I drove up to the slot to which the emission lady directed me, and it was over in minutes. Sigh! Filled with smug complacency, I drove out, and seconds later found myself on the freeway going south! How did that happen?!?! There were no signs saying freeway. I just innocently turned a corner and Margaret and I were on our way to Portland! I got off in some completely alien territory. My only familiarity with it was reading about the shootouts happening there. A nice man directed me back to the freeway going north. As I was approaching my exit, there were signs about detours to here and there. I got confused and missed my exit. I had to cross four lanes (terrifying) to get to the downtown exit. I was suddenly in an area where I know my way about when afoot, but all the one way streets turned it into a maze. I did my best to head in the right direction, turned a corner, when suddenly I was on the freeway again. Egads! I swear there was not one sign saying “Freeway in this direction.” Yow!! Margaret took it all much more calmly than I did, and did not say a single bad word. I can’t say the same for myself. Finally we arrived home – me a limp rag, and Margaret thrilled that she had gotten to go for a fun ride. I’m happy that this ordeal is over for at least another year!