Like most people I have my flaws. I think my parents should probably return me; my feet regularly loose their ability to stand, I have various lung defects and teeth that cost more than a cheap second hand car. Last night I discovered that I am a defective navigator. Admittedly I have been in denial about this after receiving a C- for Navigation in Maths A. I know I am not alone in this probably, in fact the more I think about it, the more I'm certain it is a hereditary trait (for the past four years my mother has walked in the wrong direction out of the lift at my monthly orthodontist visits).
In the past 16 years 5 months I have accomplished some seriously stupid, cringe-worthy things. Even now, some memories catch me off guard and give me the urge to curl up in a ball of shame. I have decided that I can remember the events of last night in two different ways. a) another event to add to my long (and probably never-ending list of stupidity) or b) another event to prove my spontaneous tendencies. Which ever way I choose to look at it will never forget the complexities my friend Em and I encountered ass we endeavored to find a carpark and the Schonell Theatre before the Queensland Musical Theatre' s production of Oliver.
1800 hours: Left a disclosed suburban residence in Hawthorne. Gavin Degraw's, Chariot penetrated the eardrums our eardrums as we gallivanted down Hawthorne Road.
1810 hours: Head thumped to I Don't Want to Be (another Degraw classic) while idly awaiting a change of lights at Wynuum- Hawthorne Road Intersection.
1820 hours: Had a mild rock out to Missy Higgins, Scar while surpassing the city on the freeway.
1825 hours: St Lucia was ours as we serenaded the local community with I'm Yours, Jason Mraz
1830 hours: Approaching UQ St Lucia campus, Dog Days were over; we nailed speed- bumps like para-gliders.
1835 hours: Parked adjacent to an occupied some skilled soccer players.
1840 hours: Wandered around the Women's Institute with UQ hoping to stumble across the Schonell Theatre.
1900 hours: After 20 minutes of failing to discover the Schonell Theatre; we made the executive decision to run back to the car. We returned to the car five minutes later sweaty and breathless. My inbuilt navigation system had failed me.
1915 hours: After spending 15 minutes driving following arrowed signs to the Schonell Theatre we finally parked. We had passed the skilled soccer players three times.
|UQ Map for future reference or people with equally damaged navigation skills.|
An hour and fifteen minutes after our departure time, and forty five minutes overdue our estimated arrival time; we entered the Schonell Theatre. After some quick shots of caffeine, we considered ourselves lucky to be there on time! Like all there is a moral to this story; don't call a homing pigeon Kobi.