Today I ran out of synonyms and needed a map. Not at the same time.
In this big, big world with big, big places, there remains only one place where no matter what my purpose for being there, I am always lost. Always.
Lowe’s. I don’t understand it. Today we went to Lowe’s to get various touch-up items for the apartment, like paint. We could find the paint easily enough, but could we find the spackling stuff for the holes in the walls? Not without assistance. Could we find the gloves Matt wanted? Not without assistance from two individuals (the first one was wrong). Ironically enough, two of these items were in the same aisle. The same aisle we had walked up and down a few times in our various searches.
Lowe’s employees carry phones, and it’s probably because there’s no way one person can memorize the location of everything in that store. Their signage is not superb. If I were philosophical, perhaps I would say that Lowe’s is a metaphor for my life. But I’m not, and even if I were, I wouldn’t say that because I’m a rhetorician and my signs are a hell of a lot better than that. In addition, I’m not lost all the time in real life. Just some of the time. Also, I’m pretty sure lawn mowers have little to do with my life, even as literary devices. I don’t like the outdoors, remember? That’s where the insects and animals live (except kitties and puppies). I have made a deal that if they don’t come into my territory I won’t go in their’s. Of course, I’m not sure I can be held to this deal since I made it with the squirrels, the pawns of the animal kingdom. They have a pretty intense hierarchy out there, apparently. Squirrels are like the chicks who dies first in slasher fics–pretty, plot-advancing, but nobody really cares about them much. Also, there’s a lot of them and they all sort of look the same.