The Directionally Challenged

My internal compass hasn’t been working for as long as I can remember, unfortunately. I can’t tell where the north is, the south, the east or the west. Heck, while on the subject of being directionally challenged, I sometimes can’t tell the left from the right. I always have a hard time remembering how to get to a place, I’m surprised I haven’t managed to get lost for the past couple of months.

Okay, okay. I admit when I go out Paulie is always with me and he’s not as hopeless with directions as I am. I don’t know if there’s a cure for this. It kind of gets annoying when we have people over and I can’t even show them around the city’s attractions because I wouldn’t know how to get there without a taxi. It’s good when the visitors know the ins and outs of Baguio well, but if they don’t, then the taxi is our best friend. Maps won’t help either. I don’t know how to read them. Being a taxi driver would be the worst idea of a job for me. Or a mailman. Or a delivery girl. Sheesh.

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