‘IT MUST BE like waking up in a new city every single day for you,’ someone recently said to me.
The remark followed my excitement over the fact that a ‘new’ tapas restaurant had opened up just one street over from where I live.
As it turned out, it wasn’t a new restaurant; it wasn’t even remotely new. In fact, it had been there before I had even moved in, and I had just never noticed it.
Day after day I had passed it, and not once, had I registered it.
My lack of perception has become somewhat of a running joke. I would argue that I’m perceptive to people and emotions, but when it comes to the world around me, I tend to wear blinkers without even realising it.
Recently, I exclaimed over a shop front. Unsurprisingly, the person I was with expressed disbelief that I had never noticed it considering the fact I pass it twice a day on my way to work.
My response? “I walk on the other side of the road.”
There are bars around the corner from my apartment which I never spotted until my attention was purposely drawn to them.
There were full construction sites I passed every day without once considering what they were to become.
And there are numerous cafes and restaurants around Dublin that I have never noticed – until pointed out to me – despite the fact I have passed them countless times over a number of years.
I’ve had my eyesight, intellect and spatial awareness questioned multiple times; all of which have been justified, I’ll admit.
Personally, I think much of it comes down to having absolutely no sense of direction.
Once I establish a path that will get me from A to B, I don’t tend to wander from it by myself for fear of getting lost, so I rarely discover new things if I’m alone, that is.
And after establishing that path and becoming comfortable with it, I tend to go into my world and don’t do much scouting of my surroundings.
For some people who absorb their surroundings, consistently notice the smallest of changes, and exude a natural curiosity about their environment, my way of moving through the world is supremely irritating.
But if I’m honest, I actually find it hilarious. And it comes in handy from time to time.
I mean, I’ll get excited over a ‘new’ venue long after everyone else has grown tired of it, so that means I rarely have to deal with the fuss and full bookings that accompanies a place that actually is, you know, new.
I’ll agree to go for a wander with a friend, and because I don’t have to concern myself with direction, I’ll return home delighted by the host of local eateries I spotted when I wasn’t doing my level best not to get lost.
If I cared more, I might worry about it.
Sometimes it does feel like I’ve woken up in a new city, but at least, my days are peppered with relatively pleasant surprises.
It just so happens to be months – if not years – after everyone else.
