I have a great sense of direction. If I've been someplace once, I can find it again. Keep this in mind.
In grad school, I moved off-campus into a house for one semester that was owned by a professor and his slightly crazy wife, whom I later learned was alcoholic and a yard saler who collected lots of stuff. They owned a bunch of animals that wandered freely, and one cat loved to sit on me whenever I made a lap or laid down.
In this house, I never could get my sense of direction straight. I lived there for 14 weeks, and I never knew what I was going to see when I looked out any of the windows. Including my bedroom window. Right--every morning, I was surprised when I looked out the window and could see the driveway beneath my window because I was sure it should be facing the street.
One morning I awakened with Buttons the cat sleeping on my chest while I laid on my back. I closed my eyes and drifted back to sleep...and then Buttons leaped up, completely bottle-brushed, hissing, staring right over my head at the corner of the bed.
There was nothing there! And then, after a moment or two, still staring there, Buttons settled back on my chest and stayed right there.
Later on a friend said, "I think that cat saw whatever was in the house confusing you." Brr!
Two years ago I saw a neat gravestone in a cemetery I pass on a regular basis. I decided to photograph it, so one day I managed to remember to bring my camera, and I took the baby and went into the cemetery.
THe insant I drove through the gates, I had no idea where I was or which direction I needed to go in order to get to the gravestone. The cemetery is laid out on a corner, so all I had to do was proceed to the center and make a left and go to the end gate. But it was very. hard. to. concentrate. I had no idea how to do this.
Eventually I got there. I took a picture of the gravestone, then stepped past what should ahve been another grave (no stone) to take a picture of a stone at that grave. And when I did, my camera went haywire and started beeping (digital) and after several seconds, it shut itself off.
[Five years of use, and that is the ONLY time that camera ever pulled that trick on me.]
I stood stock still, and then I realized--a very very busy street was only about fifteen feet behind me, and I couldn't hear a thing. No traffic. No birds. No nothing.
I carefully turned the camera back on, carefully raised it again, and took the picture. It went off fine. Then I turned, took the baby, and returned to my car, thinking, "There is no way that car is going to start."
But it did. And then, once I got the car moving, I once again had no sense of where I was or how to get out of the cemetery.
Something was definitely messing with me there. Every time I passed that cemetery for a year or so afterward, I would pray for whatever spirit was so restless, and eventually one day I got a sense that I didn't have to do that any longer, and I stopped. And no, there was nothing unusual about either picture that came out.