Monday, December 2, 2013
Lost Like This
My sense of direction has never been fantastic.
It is the real reason why a smaller campus is nice for me, though I'll admit that I've certainly gotten lost within small campus areas too.
…Okay, within buildings. I've gotten lost within a building or five.
Like, this one building on the smaller of my college campuses might as well be like that Escher painting.
Once, as an undergrad, I got lost on the other side of campus because I had gone to the other dining hall.
I had to call my friend from home, who had been there maybe once, to tell me how to get back to my dorm.
Of course, I had gotten stuck in my own dorm at one point before that…
This one Summer, I was taking a class for college at my old high school.
I figured, "Yeah, I remember this place. It'll be a breeze getting around."
First of all, that saying, "You can't go home again" can mean a lot of things.
In terms of my old high school, it means some major renovations were being made and the entire thing not only looked very different, but was actually being gutted at the time.
So, after my class, I go to leave.
I remember that the doors lead, you know... out.
…And, technically speaking, they did.
The problem was that "out" did not mean out to the parking lot.
Out, in this case, meant out into a wasteland of mud and construction equipment.
I like to think the equipment was just as confused as I was.
It was also raining, hence the dirt being mud.
I turned to go back inside, but the door was locked.
The door that I had just gone through was locked to the outside.
I imagine I looked like this, trying to get back in:
With no other choice, I turned to see if I could some how climb may way out, back into society.
I began to sink into the mud.
Not only was it really, super gross, but I also was working under the assumption that I was going to die there and be buried like some horrible time capsule.
"This seems to be a college girl. What was she doing back then in the 2000s wandering around a high school? We may never know…"
I actually don't remember how I got out, but I know that I was very distraught and disturbed when I went back to my parent's house.
The sandals I had been wearing were given to the gods as sacrifice.
I don't know why I thought that would be easy.
I mean, even when I WAS in high school, I never knew where I was going.
I'd carry around my schedule every day and ask my teacher EVERY DAY how to get to the next class.
I was late most of the time, so I stopped going to my locker at all, except for before and after lunch.
I'd switch my school bag with my lunch box, then my lunch box with the other half of my school stuff for the rest of the day.
Of course, this brilliant process is why I often did my homework, yet managed to not have it to hand in.
Middle school was even worse, because even if I had known where my locker was, (which I never did) I wouldn't have known the combination to my lock anyway.
I still have dreams where I'm lost and looking for my damn locker.
I get lost in wide open spaces too. I get lost in stores and panic the moment whoever I'm with is behind a display or something, thinking I'll be lost forever.
Panic probably doesn't help the lost thing…
I've learned to at least ask or pretend to know where I'm going until I figure it out, but I still feel like I'm always wrong about which direction I should go.
…There's a metaphor in that, I'm sure.