Lost....again...

This is going to be a bit of a rant. One of my least favorite things in the world is getting lost. I hate it. In case you hadn't noticed, I like being in control, and when I'm lost, I'm definitely not. It's a huge hassle and inconvenience, and I despise it. Combine my natural distaste for getting lost and going even five minutes out of my way with this area and its horrendous traffic, erratic road signage, and large concrete medians that ensure that you can't go back the way you came, and you have a recipe for road rage. My road rage, specifically. This morning, I attempted to go to an impromptu brunch at the home of one of the girls in my small group. Of course, like everyone else in our small group, and everyone else in our church for that matter, she lives about 30-45 minutes south of us. No one we go to church with lives near us, and this is another matter of great frustration for me. So I set out with what I thought were very clear Mapquest directions off of a major road that I've traveled many times. I set the trip odometer to record the mileage to where I was supposed to turn. I was feeling confident. That was dumb. I couldn't find the turn. I looked and looked, but as far as I know, someone took down the sign for Oak St. last night. No one had heard of it, either, so I guess that same guy went around with a memory erasure gun and cleansed the memories of the local inhabitants of the existence of Oak St. Combine that with the fact that everybody around here drives 10 mph slower when it so much as sprinkles, and it quickly became apparent that I wasn't going to make it. I have to be at the train station at 1:30 to hop a regional to New York for the weekend, and I knew that I'd only be able to stay an hour at the most under the best of circumstances. So, amid tears of anger and frustration, I turned around and went home, my coffee cake cooling next to me on the passenger seat. Why, you may ask, didn't I call and ask the homeowner for help? Because our cell phone drowned last week, and I didn't have a phone number, only an email address. We're new to the care group, so we don't have an address list yet. I know this could've been avoided with better planning, and the lack of that is my fault. I also should've just known it'd probably be too tight on time to go, and I shouldn't have attempted it. I should've expected that I'd get lost, but I guess I still have some stubborn optimism left. You'd think I would've learned by now. I feel like we get lost all the time, and I'm sick of it. When it happens, I scream, "I hate this town. I hate this town. I HATE THIS TOWN!" at the top of my lungs. So please pray for my road rage and frustration. And if you know someone who's recently moved to your area, please feel pity for them when they show up an hour late with a defeated glaze in their eyes. Please give them thorough directions that a monkey couldn't mess up, even if the place they're looking for is on the street where they live. Moving is so hard, and getting lost is some of the worst of it. And if you find Oak St., say hi to it for me.