Today I did something completely new…I traveled over 4 hours away from home all by myself. For those road warriors out there, more power to you. I don’t go to the grocery store by myself much less across the entire state of Georgia. In all fairness, usually I am a magnet for all things weird. If it’s going to happen, it’s going to be with me.
Couple my slight fear of traveling alone with my incredible social awkwardness, and it’s an entire party. I pulled into the hotel parking lot after four long hours of driving and I missed the spot for the luggage drop off. Or, maybe I didn’t miss it. Maybe I was unsure if I could park there so I just parked where I knew I could park. I told myself I would go check in and go back to get my luggage. It wouldn’t be that bad. That was a lie. My suitcase is the same weight as the cast iron kitchen sink at my old house. Perhaps even a little more. But I didn’t have just one suitcase. No. Because for a four day trip, one needs a big suitcase full of clothes, shoes, a pillow and a blanket. Then, I needed a smaller suitcase for my makeup, body wash, two hair dryers (don’t ask, curly hair problems), a curling iron, a straightener, a makeup mirror, and other assorted accessories. Then, I also needed my computer bag for not one, but two, computers and a tablet. Heaven forbid I not stay connected to every computer I own. Finally, I needed a bag for my wine and sodas that is packed with enough snacks I can literally not eat at a restaurant the whole time. I even brought a can of chicken noodle soup. I don’t have a microwave in my hotel room to heat it so I’ll just have to resort to solar cooking if it gets to that point. With my limited (aka absent) solar cooking skills.
Now that you know the luggage weighs roughly the same amount as a baby elephant, the fun part. Remember I said I would check in and get the luggage from the car to the hotel? Easy peasy, right? Nothing, and I mean nothing, I do is easy peasy. The hotel was uphill from the parking lot. Oh, and did I mention the driveway is paved with some historical brick that probably Christopher Columbus made? No? Well, surprise. I had my backpack on one shoulder because it’s just not cool to wear the damn thing. The trip across the street from the parking lot went relatively smoothly.
But, when I reached the walkway into the hotel, it was painfully evident just how heavy my luggage was. Heavy luggage does not like to roll uphill. No, instead, it likes to roll backwards into my toes on repeat. For fun, the backpack that I was too “cool” to wear properly liked to slide down my arm and slam at my wrist. I now look like I’ve been in a WWE fight with bruises up and down my left arm.
Because this is a historical hotel, it has to adhere to certain “National Historic Register” b.s. like not having automatic doors. For heavens sake, didn’t Leonardo DaVinci invent sliding automatic doors or something? Maybe not but I could make a case for it as I was trying to get me, two suitcases, a backpack, a cooler, and a partridge in a pear tree through the very manually opened doors. I pulled one door open and rushed to get the luggage in the door. The door slammed on the luggage and then the luggage got stuck on the threshold. This caused quite a stir as a lady haphazardly offered to help me but I politely declined, mumbling how I had not clearly thought this through.
I also did not recall the TWO STEPS I would have to traverse to get to the elevator landing. By this point, I’m red as a beet, breathing like Darth Vader, and ready to just give the shit away if it meant not lugging it an inch more. At no point did a bellhop come to my rescue. I got “looks” from some of the hoity toity guests and I smiled sweetly even though sweat from my brow was quickly making its way to my eyes. Finally, a young man offered to help but by this point, sarcasm was my only way of communicating. I had already gotten the smaller suitcase onto the landing while he and I struggled with the larger one. I told him I had been riding the struggle bus all day and he said it seemed he had, too. We commiserated for a moment and off I went again, finally making it to the carpeted elevator. Which took me to the carpeted walkway to my room.
Not only did my luggage struggle to roll uphill, carpet is proving to be its demise. By this point, I’ve progressed from Darth Vader breathing to full on respiratory distress. People walked past me with eyes full of pity as I slowly made my way down the hallway. I finally made it to my room and barely got it all inside. I was hot, red, and sweaty. My room was musty, warm, and humid. I noticed a ceiling fan and searched desperately for the power switch.
I quickly learned that some absolute horrid person had turned it off from the pull cord that was extremely close to the fan itself. I climbed on my bed, thinking surely I could reach it by standing on my knees on the elevated bed. I miscalculated that as well. My thighs were trembling from the massive workout with the luggage debacle. I didn’t know if I could trust them to stand up on the bed but I knew I was two beads of sweat away from a heat stroke if I didn’t. Luckily, my thighs didn’t let me down, both literally and figuratively, and I was able to turn on the fan.
After all of the adventure, I realized how hungry I was since I had not eaten since I left home. I deserved a good meal and I ordered room service. Within ten minutes or so, a nice young man brought my order. I commented on how it had “been a day” and he agreed. He then told me that tomorrow was his off day in which he planned to perhaps go to the gym and then go back home to “drown in his tears.” Now, I don’t know about you but when someone shares that kind of information, I can’t just let it go. I know that feeling and it sucks. He probably shouldn’t have told me any of what he relayed after that but he’d recently been through a tough breakup. His boyfriend had cheated on him then called him ugly and fat. He was just broken by the harsh words. I recognized that hurt, that brokenness. So despite the growling in my stomach, I stopped to tell him how I had been through a tough breakup before. I told him that there were better days to come and how he would have to win the battle within his mind. I told him not to let what anyone says or thinks about him change what he believes about himself. He was genuinely appreciative that someone cared to talk to him about it and I told him that he would be stronger after he healed. He asked me if he could hug me and I said of course. Sometimes, it’s not just the luggage that is rolling uphill.
I thought that I would never make it through the last two years. My blog is a testament to that pain. But, slowly, I began to heal. I began to find the new me, the improved me. When people tell you that you have to face the pain, it sounds too hard. At the time, you can’t imagine the strength that it will give you. You can’t imagine a day when the pain doesn’t sit down with you and rob you of your joy. But, it happens. When you’re going through it, you can’t see it. You can’t see the growth but then one day, it hits you. And, you’re not rolling uphill. You’re running uphill like a beast and you’re helping others through the pain. Or in my case, maybe I just sounded like a beast—a wildebeest—but you get the point.
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