You know the feeling. You're using Google Maps turn-by-turn directions to help you find your way to a new place, and it's not going smoothly.
Whoa, slow your roll there, lady. Those are a lot of directions, and I haven't even started my car yet.
All right! For the record, I do not need such detailed directions for what essentially amounts to leaving my driveway and getting myself to the stop sign that I can see from my house.
Really? Bitch, if I knew which direction north was, I wouldn't need you. Now stop acting like a cheap-ass compass ring and give me some rights and lefts.
Where? Right here? At the next light? How about some fucking context before I Michael Scott this car right into a lake?
Yeah, yeah, how about you stop congratulating yourself on your semi-coherent navigation capabilities for two seconds and give me some actual directions?
Why aren't you talking? You haven't said anything for three miles. Did you shut down? Shit, I better check at the next stoplight. Oh look - every stoplight is green for the next 25 miles. What are the chances of that? (The chances are 100% if you need to look at your phone, according to a statistic that I just made up but feel really confident about.)
Did you really just give me 15 seconds lead time to cross five lanes of midday Atlanta traffic? What the hell have you been doing for the last three miles that you couldn't have told me this was coming?
The fuck I have! I am literally still driving down the street. Was I supposed to turn in somewhere? Unless my new doctor is running his practice from an invisible office located on the traffic median, I am definitely not at my destination. You're not done yet by a damn sight.
You have got to be kidding me.