Yesterday I lost it. I was lost and I lost my temper at the same time which just wasn't the best combination. In an attempt to run errands and get groceries, I got turned around and the world seemed to be against me. My first and second errands went well, but coming out of the second errand, I didn't turn when I should have and was diverted three blocks by one-way streets. Then when I got to where I thought Costco was, I realized it wasn't there. That would have been okay if this wasn't a chronic problem of mine. For some reason, I can't for the life of me find Costco unless I look it up on a map right before I leave. I'm pretty sure I've called Rick about five times from where I think Costco should be, cursing into the phone as he tries to talk me down from my ledge and direct me to where the real Costco is located. To make matters worse, it was a Saturday afternoon in the City which is a notoriously bad time to be driving around. Even worse than that, the place where I think Costco is, just so happens to be the worst set of intersections on the north side of the City, in my opinion. (Ashland, Fullerton, and Clybourn for you locals). It is a six-way intersection near the river, and all three are pretty major thoroughfares that are incredibly busy on weekends. After I turned the wrong way, went over the river, came back over the river, sat through three lights to turn left, sat through another light to turn left again, and went back over to the wrong side of the river, I finally called Rick and said, "Don't laugh. I know I do this every time but I'm so mad right now I could cry. Where is Costco?" (Note that I have edited out all of the curse words. You can use your imagination to add back about twenty uses of the f-word for fun.)
In his most calm, I-really-don't-understand-why-you-can't-figure-this-out voice he replied, "Damen, Division, and Clybourn."
To which I replied, "Oh, I'm at Damen so I'm close."
"Yeah, go right and then right again at Clybourn."
"What? I have to turn right? (Insert another long rant of expletives here.) I'm in the left-hand turn lane." At this point I was again stuck turning left at another six-way intersection. I sat through two lights before I got my turn. Rick mentioned that Iain was just waking up and I gave up my search for Costco and headed home. But not before I missed a turn that could have avoided me trying to and quickly giving up on, turning left at a wonky intersection at Ashland and Elston (another angled street). I ended up turning left on a dead end street near some warehouses, turned around and then headed north again on Ashland. A few blocks later I decided to make a quick stop at Jewel for groceries since it was on the way and I wasn't about to wage war with traffic and my poor sense of direction again just for some groceries.
To add insult to injury, my situation didn't improve once I got into the store. While perusing the aisles of Jewel, I asked a stock boy where I could find the frozen berries. "Aisle ten past the (garbled word)." I went down the aisle twice and finally asked another stock boy where they were and he said, "Under the sign that says, 'Toppings'". A whole aisle of food and one freezer door worth of frozen fruit. Not to mention that it was the ice cream aisle and I was in more of a mood to buy a case of Ben & Jerry's than frozen berries.
Moral of the story: Don't ask me for directions on how to get to Costco. Avoid the six-way intersections in Chicago on the weekends. And make sure to have curse-filled meltdowns when your children aren't in the car to witness them.