I hopped in my car around 7:30AM, launched Waze and punched in the address for my client’s location. I hoped that Waze, with it’s near real-time social updates, would provide the best route to the office. My hopes were dashed when I got to Princeton Avenue. Bumper to bumper traffic heading out toward Route 206.
I bypassed Princeton Avenue via Montgomery Walk and headed up Mount Lucas Road and then back to Route 206 South. Waze routed me to Mercer Street and I headed Princeton Pike. Normally I take Quaker Road to Route 1 from Princeton Pike but I knew that Quaker Road would be closed because of the rains. What I didn’t expect was that Princeton Pike at Quaker Road would be closed as well. I updated Waze and took the Quaker Road west back toward Route 206. Route 206 North was at backup so I headed south.
Waze directed me down another street toward Princeton Pike. Nope! Princeton Pike at that location was closed to south bound traffic. So I turned around and headed back to Route 206 South.
Waze sent me toward Province Line Road which had started backing up. Three light changes later, I was headed back down Princeton Pike toward Princeton Avenue. I arrived at Spruce street around 8:45AM. My 16 mile commute had taken me over an hour to complete. But this was only the start of my frustrating day.
After commiserating with my office mates I took a look at my calendar. I had a meeting scheduled for 9:00AM at the other office. What!? So I decided to reschedule that meeting for Friday. I started to unpack my computer bag and realized I had left my glucose-meter at home. The meter is the brains of my insulin pump. While I can manually give myself a bolus of insulin, the calculations for getting the dosage correct are complicated.
So, at 11:30AM I drove home to get the meter. It took me about 30 minutes to get from the office to my door. I rushed in, grab the meter, tested my blood glucose, entered the carbs for my lunch, and bolused. Then I hopped back into my car and started driving back to the office while eating my sandwich. I was frustrated and stressed. As I drove down Route 206 I noticed the pink buds on the trees along the road near Community Park North. To hell with it. I need a break. Work can wait.
I pulled into the park, grabbed my camera and went for a walk. I was noon and the sun was overhead. I know it’s not the best time of the day for photography. But I didn’t care. I needed this. I inhaled deeply and walked around looking for whatever caught my eye. The greenery. The pink. The sky.
’To the complaint, “There are no people in these photographs,” I respond, ’There are always two people: the photographer and the viewer.’ Ansel Adams (1902 – 1984)
My shoes were a little muddy from walking in the sopping wet grass to get that first shot. I didn’t care. 30 minutes later I got back into my car and drove back to the office.
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