Non-sense of direction

            Tick, tick, tick… That’s not a clock; it’s me counting the crawly monsters (6!) on me after my unplanned walk today. I thought I was following this nice new path at our local middle school, but somehow I ended up wading through acres of thick, hummocky, fields. Tick heaven.
            When I finally emerged onto pavement, I had no idea which road I was on or which direction to go. This is my neighborhood. I like to think of myself as an intelligent being. But panicky mayhem scrambles my receptors. Disorientation is powerfully unsettling. I’m spatially adrift, stuck in a nightmare vortex.
            I turned the wrong way, checked myself on Google, and corrected. Once I’d resolved my location, my brain’s chaotic malfunctioning ceased. Everything clicked into place. I was back.
            I’ve read about far worse cases of sense-of-direction-challenged folks, but even mild disorientation is a little like a visit to the Twilight Zone.
 
My 60th year in 60,000 words
Day 280: 152 words, TOTAL = 47,101; 12,899 remaining