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Getting my driver’s license was one of the more terrifying days of my life—and let’s be honest, my parents’ lives, as well. Not because I finally had the freedom to hit the open road at the ripe old age of 16, but because I knew that it was the beginning of the end of being eternally “lost.” I have always been what my family calls "directionally challenged," even with my keen visual sense of the world around me. Getting in the car with me behind the wheel is nothing short of an adventure—for the passenger, obviously. People can’t just tell me to “head north” or...
