Wednesday was just one of those days. Nothing seemed to be going right. The heavy rains the night before had flooded most of the smaller bridges and country roads around my town and nearby towns. The rush hour traffic to work in the morning was pretty bad. My phone was buzzing with text updates from the county about road and bridge closures.
I hopped in my car around 7:30 AM, 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 southbound 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 8:45 AM. 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 9:00 AM 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 11:30 AM 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.