I’m Not Lost. I’m Directionally Challenged.


Whenever I see a picture like this, I feel both thoroughly amused and thoroughly vindicated.

If nothing else, it feels good to know I’m not defective. And I’m not alone.

For years, I’ve been made to feel like a leper by people who just don’t get that I just don’t get words like south. Or east.

Before smartphones existed, I once ended up at Homestead Airforce Base whilst attempting to go to South Beach. Or on my way to Naples when I was trying to get to Sawgrass Mills Mall.

So please, for the love of all that is holy, tell me to turn right at the blue building. Or left at McDonald’s.

But for fuck’s sake, don’t tell me to go north. Or that someplace is on the southeast corner of some other place.

Because if I can’t even navigate using the Map app (like constantly being told to “proceed to the route” while wandering aimlessly in circles trying to figure out which way the fucking route is,) using cardinal directions to tell me which way to go will not help.

A little part of me dies every time. And likes you a little less.


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