I am undoubtedly the stupidest smart person that I know.
Just because I’m an Honors student on the Dean’s List and have maintained honor roll status since elementary school doesn’t mean that I have the mental capacity to operate as a human being effectively.
Over time, I’ve found that I lack much of the common sense that my peers seem to have been blessed with. A solid score on the ACT does little to enable me to cope with the daily struggles of existence.
For example, doors serve as a constant reminder that I’m not up for the challenge of being alive. If I’m approaching a “pull” door, there is a negative percent chance that it will be pulled. I will push endlessly until the soles of my shoes have been scraped away on the pavement. I will then read the blatantly obvious “pull” sign inches away, chuckle softly to myself and die on the inside shortly after.
When it comes to geography, I’m even more useless. It is true that in seventh grade I succeeded in writing the name and capital of each state on a blank map of the United States from memory. This skill, which will obviously never serve me in the outside world, does not translate well to my spatial reasoning and understanding of my surroundings, however.
Street names and cardinal directions baffle me, which helps to explain why living with a GPS is an absolute necessity. It also explains why you will likely end up in the deep woods of New Hampshire if you ever ask me for directions to the Starr Building.
Because I only have my own perspective to work with, I have no idea how often the general population deals with these kinds of problems. I hope that I’m not alone in this struggle, but I also wouldn’t wish my level of outright ignorance on anybody.