I had a friend in college named Chip. Ever since I knew Chip, he was perpetually disorganized. Shortly after we graduated, he called me one day and informed me he was coming to visit me in Florida (he lived in Pennsylvania). I assumed he would call me back to set a date or get directions or make some kind of plan for his visit.
Five days later, Chip showed up at my front door.
“How did you get here?” I asked half-bemused, half-perplexed.
“Did you have a map?” I probed.
“No,” he responded.
“Then how did you find my house?”
“I kept stopping and asking directions,” he replied quite matter-of-factly.