Breakdown A Bit Better. Thanks to the Hotel Lucia.

So I snapped. A bit. I felt like shit. Allergies and such. (Which I know is getting old. How do you think I feel?) And then the drive from Seattle being a bit over 3 hours. Which didn't help my sciatica at all. (Because the company didn't want to pay for the plane ticket.) Which I didn't used to care so much about -- in the beginning of my traveling adventures -- I would drive five hours. But now I'm so worn out that I do care. And the fact I look like shit. And am supposed to be selling skincare. And am tired of putting on make-up to hide the fact I look and feel like shit. When I really just want the time and ability to make myself look and feel better. I need a haircut. Would love a massage. Botox anyone? Even just the time to go to yoga would be nice. My body needs it. Alot. My ass. It didn't used to, but now it does. And of course, there's the fact that I want to be doing what I want to be doing. Which is not skincare or publicity or retail or temping or anything I've basically done over the past five years. An that I'm having a hard time with the idea of moving home at 38 years old. Which makes me feel like a bigger loser than the last five years. If that's possible. And I need to get over it. But I want to be in such a different place. And then. Suddenly I was. At the Hotel Lucia.

The Hotel Lucia is the sister hotel to the Hotel Max. At the Hotel Max they made a mistake and charged my debit card for the stay instead of the company. They tried to reverse it but couldn't until Monday. They were apologetic. So apologetic they wanted to buy me breakfast. Or coffee. In the end? They comped the mini bar charges. My $3.00 Diet Coke? Free! My almonds? Free! Which is what customer service is alll about. The place wins hands down. Or so I thought. Until I got to the Hotel Lucia. The valet/doorman? So nice. The front desk attendants? Even nicer. They all set me up. Were so kind to me it made me wonder if they thought I was someone I wasn't. I got a King sized room with all the amenities. A huge beautiful bed. A mini bar. A good one. With good stuff in it. Carefully selected bottles of wine. One of which I promptly opened. Because I was still in breakdown mode. And the Hotel Lucia? It has better stuff to breakdown with. And then, I called a few people. My sister. My mom. And while I was on the phone with my mom? The manager sent up a bottle of wine. With a nice note. How is that possible? The Ramada Inn in Richmond Virginia charges me for a bed and a lamp I didn't break. The Hotel Lucia sends me wine with their compliments and gives me a swanky room. It was such a difference. So much so that when I hung up with my mom? I just started to cry. And kept crying. I couldn't stop. Those two hotels just turned everything around. Completely around. They were kind. They treated me well. They gave me what I needed and more. No one has done that for me in such a long time. And definitely no hotel. It made me feel like I could have the life I wanted. Or if I had the life I wanted that's what it would feel like. I'm not really sure which.



So I was having some crazy combination of gratitude and breakdown or breakdown because of gratitude. And I knew I had to warn Janice about it ahead of time. In case she wanted to dodge a bullet in the guise of me. But no, she came to see me anyway. And hung out and listened and said that I'd done the same for her. I feel like I've been a mess for so long it surprised me to remember that there were times other people were messes and I wasn't. And that they remembered. Janice is a rock star. She took me to dinner. She made me feel better. Like I had nothing to be ashamed of. She likes my plan of New York. She thinks it suits me. And that it will work. And she made me believe it. Because she meant it. I wasn't going to go to work tomorrow. I didn't think I could face it. I just felt fried. And tired of pretending. But now I feel like I can get it together. And look forward to my plan working. And me doing what I want to do. And maybe next time I come to the Hotel Lucia, I will be someone I'm now not.