If you should know anything about me, it might be that I have NO sense of direction at all.
I ETERNALLY want to turn left when I should turn right.
Everything looks familiar, so forget finding milestones to mark the route.
Remember, if you're traveling with me by car or by foot, you want to be the one navigating.
Case in point:
We moved a bit when I was growing up. We averaged a major move every 4 years. And by major I mean, completely out of town and often out of state.
So, it seemed as soon as I started to figure out how to get around in one place I had to start breaking a new one in.
I learned to strut around as if I knew EXACTLY where I was going, when in fact I was clueless and always on the verge of being lost. I even had a teacher comment on it once when he was advising us to "fake it until we make it". He said something to the effect, "Just watch Vicki. She looks like she knows where she's going, but she'll walk past the room three times before she comes in."
(And yeah, I probably did).
So anyway, during Thanksgiving break in 8th grade, we moved from small town (250 people) to a larger one of about 7,500.
Greaaaaaaaaaaaaat, (please note heavy sarcasm) another new school to figure out.
My old school had several floors, but us underlings were confined to one floor while the upper classmen used the rest. My new school had three floors, and I had classes on all of them. Like most students, I lived in fear of not making it to my next class before the bell rang. Now having three floors to navigate, the fear intensified.
I don't know about you, but when I am stressed, I don't think straight. Hell, I don't think at all.
One day early on, I exited my classroom and needed to go to the third floor for my next class.
But I could not find the stairs going up. I walked from one end of the school to the other, but only found stairs going down. I was confused, weren't the stairs going up right beside the others before?
Finally, freaked beyond all rational thought, I asked someone where the stairs were to the third floor.
and she told me I was ON the third floor.
I coulda died. What a bonehead.
Go ahead...it's okay to laugh.
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