This is a long rant of little interest to anyone, but if I had to live through it, it's only fair that you should have to read it.First of all, I-94 and I-90 are the same road for a while, in Chicago. I got on at Touhy and, eventually, I-94 split off to the rigth, so I assumed that I was on 90. Fifteen minutes later, I realized that 90/94 split south of our house, and I had, in fact, never been on 90. I backtracked to 90, passed it, turned around only to realize that there wasn't a northbound on-ramp, turned around again, and found myself on Foster. Twenty minutes later I finally got on 90. Which road looked nothing like i remembered, and I panicked to think that maybe Ikea had been on 94, after all. Friendly gas station person (FGP) #2 told me to preservere, and before long I saw it, although I had no idea how to reach it from the interstate. Ten minutes later, lost, I found a Sears and reasoned that the Community needed a dishwasher adapter more than I needed a desk, so I went in. They didn't have one, but they gave me directions to a Sears parts store. I drove south for a while, until friendly gas station person told me that Algonquin (I had been told to go to 727 East Algonquin) was northerly. Turned around, found Alg. And took a right. Much later I found 727 E., but no Sears. FGP#3 actualy knew of it (it wasn't a myth!) but told me that I'd gone too far east, and was at the 727 E. Of a different town. I turned west, and backtracked to where I'd started, and then kept going eventually I so 606 E., and the a huge graveyard, and then a farm, and the (nuch later) 1330 E. I turned around, backtracked, and found the Sears Parts Center. A women (who was actually quite polite about it, I suppose) told me that they had just closed for the day, and left before I could tell her the above. They shut the doors, and I told them anyway. Then I threw my car keys on the ground and started screaming "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" as loudly as ever I could, which quite surprised the reamining employees. They got in their cars and quickly drove home. I drove to Ikea (I found it this time, after only backtracking twice) and I'm writing this in the cafeteria there, trying to decompress. Total driving time: four hours. If the dishwasher adapter had been in Cleveland, I'd be on my way home now.