It's a good thing I wrote my blog early yesterday because the rest of the day disappeared. It was just too much. It didn't help that I went the wrong direction on my first errand. Well, I never begrudge extra walking - good for me. But I've been thinking about my infallible inaccuracy. I am directionally challenged, navigationally impaired, geographically stunted - in other words, I can't find my way out of a paper bag. It's not because I'm old and losing marbles. I've been like this all my life. I've probably told you before: I lost my map when I was born but I swallowed a clock (I have a good sense of time).
When I was eight years old I was in Grade Four and considered smart. My teacher forgot something at home one day and chose me to go and get it for her. I wasn't that smart. She gave me carfare and directions and I went to pick up the article, whatever it was, at her home. I got lost. I wandered around the neighbourhood where she lived and finally found a public pay phone (no cell phones in those days), and called to ask for more guidance. Anywhere I go, it helps to ask. It helps even more if the person I ask speaks the same language, preferably English. This is not guaranteed, even in Toronto. And when they do speak English, they don't know where I'm going, either. Usually, now, I just try to figure it out by myself and if it means more walking, well, as I say, that does me good. (Pollyanna, remember?)
So yesterday was no different, no worse because of my advanced age, perhaps better because my recovery time is faster and I can go to Plan B quite swiftly. I am annoyed, though, because I can make the same mistake several times before a path (rut) settles in my mind and I can find my way without a helpful nudge.
I guess I'm good at some things. But my ineptitude keeps me very humble.