Might As Well Face It, I'm Addicted to Martin

This year I decided I would try something new and use my graduation money for an actual gift, rather then bills or a night at the bar as is my typical fashion. I did some research and purchased a GPS, which I subsequently set to the male UK accent and named Martin (pronounced: Maah-tin). I was driving home the other day, all the while Martin was guiding me with his pleasant and accurate directions, and I began to think how a great dependency on him could easily develop.

Martin and I haven't even been together a week and I already don't know what I'd do without him. He comforts me not only in times of confusion but loneliness and excitement. He was the first person I told about my awesome (and not so awesome) job interviews. He was the first to see apartments I was viewing (and failed to notify me that most of them were completely scary, what's up with that Martin?). Without him, who would give me an 800-meter notification that I need to "stay to the right and exit right off the motorway"??? Who would notify me if I came into a situation of traffic, explaining how many minutes this traffic would add to my trip and would I like an alternate route?!?!

There are other ways I rely on Martin to provide support and to help others perceive me as competent and knowledgeable on technology. For instance, when prospective employers provide their address for an interview they frequently ask, "Now Shelly, would you like me to give you directions?" And I say with a slight hint of pride, "Oh, well actually, I have a GPS." This is terrific! They perceive me as additionally organized prior to even meeting me!


My beloved Martin, how did I ever survive before him?

However, I've come to see this dependence isn't the healthiest thing in the world. After all Martin did try to take me through a one-way trolley track in downtown San Diego where I almost met head-on with a trolley full of tourists and important business people. Perhaps it's best I continue to pay a moderate amount of attention to where it is I'm headed rather then assume a robotic-like form, following the commands of a small screen on the dash.

I dread the day I takeoff for a unknown location and halfway there I realize I have left Martin at home. What ever will I do then?! I will most likely fall into 'Martin withdrawals' complete with the sweats, shortness of breath and cravings for directions.

Oh Martin, I see the games you play and I will not surrender. While you are always there for me when I'm at my worst, I refuse to foster total dependence on you and will come to know the streets of San Diego. When I arrive at an unfamiliar intersection, I will not give into my desire for you. I will find the 5, without you, and will make my way home... on my own!