Like a lost cow

A friend of mine was looking for an office in her workplace. Because the building had painted the walls and changed the door signs, she didn't recognize the office and walked right passed it.

So she said, "In my grandmother's home back in Romania, all the village people owned cows. In the morning they would open their gates and the cows would wander out to the field and then come back that evening. If anyone painted their gate, or changed the look of their house in anyway, the cows would wander around looking for home, but you could never coax them into the right gate."