Miami Search and Rescue

Remember my recent confession that I hate being lost? Well, guess what I did yesterday. Yep, got lost. TWICE! It was so sad. Actually, I wasn't lost, I just didn't know how to get to my destination. Yes, there is a difference! (Stop laughing.) I was perfectly capable of getting back to where I came from, I just didn't know how to get where I was going.

All I wanted to do was get Luke a haircut, at a place we've been to before (though only once). Now how hard is that? Well, I forked the wrong way on the way there. I knew when I hit Gwinnett County I had gone way too far. You know you're really lost when you stop somewhere to ask directions, and they've never even heard of the place you're trying to go (and I asked about the mall it's in, not the salon itself). ::rolls eyes:: So I had to call Miami Search and Rescue: my brother, at work, with an internet connection. I have him my location and my intended destination, and he got me directions from the internet (how on earth did people get anywhere before MapQuest?). We get there (I wasn't *that* far off, actually), we get his hair cut (he looks *so* grown up!), and we leave.

And then I turned the wrong way out of the mall to go home. I didn't realize that until I saw the sign on the road I was on indicating that I was going north, when I should have been headed south. All I had to do was hang a U-turn and I was fine, but still. I usually have a *much* better sense of direction than that; I can at least usually say whether I need to go left or right to get back to where I'm going. Sheesh! In my own defense, though, I didn't get there the way I expected to, and the parking lot is quite wonky; it's quite easy to get turned around. Anyway, a trip that should have taken about an hour total took over two, and Luke was understandably exhausted by the time we got home (the car makes him sleepy anyway).

Currently feeling: misplaced