Finding My Way

I am getting acquainted with my new life. I moved to New Hampshire in August, almost two months ago. It's been a long time since I was a newcomer. We moved to North Carolina twenty-four years ago, and even the two years we spent in Memphis, was sixteen years ago (I realize I wrote "we" because it was my husband and me, now it's just me).
The process  of finding my way around here is strange. I remember thinking, after a move a while back, you know you're home when you no longer pay attention to where you are, or where you're going. Your car seems to know automatically.
I am living here on U.S. Route 4, a main road between Portsmouth and Concord. I can navigate anywhere along Route 4. Route 4 is my security blanket. Go anywhere off it, however, and I get lost going and coming. It happened again yesterday when I had a doctor's appointment neat the hospital in Dover, a town I've never been to before. I got lost, and in the trying to retrace my steps, I accidentally found the hospital. Success! Coming back I had to ask directions twice.
Strangely enough, I am always calm during these episodes. How unlike me!