The White Rabbit goes to Spain

Was I in Pamplona and not remembering?

I woke up exhausted as if I'd been running all night.

Perhaps it's because I spent 45 minutes driving around in an unfamiliar city in the dark last night with absolutely no sense of direction or my location … tiny street names that aren't lit … and no one to call.

Three times I stopped for directions, twice at gas stations and once a Comfort Inn motel. No one could tell by the address where on this major road, which by the way changes names, adding more grief, I needed to be. All they could do is point me toward the road but even that proved challenging.

So for nearly an hour during which the elderly gent was kept waiting in a dialysis center (whose number I didn't have), I drove totally lost and turned around in the dark, unfamiliar and dizzying streets, shouting out frustration and sobbing. Finally I stumbled on it when the dark blue neon sign caught the corner of an eye.

That poor man. I didn't get him home till close to 11 p.m. He was in sad shape. I helped him up the stairs to his second-floor apartment, offering my arm as an additional brace with his cane. A few times I feared I was going to lose him. Fortunately, for him, he's not a big man and my body size/weight was sufficient to stabilize and protect the teetering gentleman.

I got the van to the company lot and home approaching midnight but still had about another hour of work, mapquesting and printing out the next day's schedule/ routes. That's something else I don't like about this job. The day doesn't end when the driving's done and vehicle's dropped off.  You come home to your e-mailed schedule. Study it, mapquest and print it out. It takes time. Unpaid time.

Then I went to bed. I'm pretty sure all that accounts for the exhaustion felt upon awakening … as if I'd run with the bulls with one exception: I got nowhere fast.

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