Reservations are a funny thing. Google says it's "the act of reserving something". Google also says it's "an arrangement whereby something, esp. a seat or room, is booked or reserved for a particular person". My life, currently, is a revolving door of reservations. In January, I did something I will forever regret. I left behind all my reservations, and landed myself in a situation wishing I hadn't. The affair left me confused, lost, and missing the person I loved the most. However, I am the luckiest girl and was wanted for another chance. While working things out with the boy is, more often than not, frustrating, disheartening, and scary, the reward of an unconditional love, even with its flaws, and the journey of self discovery and growth is worth it.
This growth, however, is not without its own set of growing pains and reservations. Notably, the boys, but in his position, who wouldn't have mountains and mountains of reservations? Working things out with the girl who left you two months before you were suppose to be married isn't a piece of cake, nor is it a boost to your self-esteem. The constant turmoil of self-identification, values, and expectations post-affair can often feel like a blowtorch to both parties lives. However, I have learned more in the last two months (with lots and lots of help from a therapist) about myself, my tendencies, my influences, and my own values than I have in the past 22 years. I hope this trend continues.
As that revolving door between life and work spins on, I deal with another kind of reservation: the second kind Google has to offer. I am a concierge at the largest hotel in downtown Austin. I make countless reservations for my guests to restaurants, tours, events, shows, whatever, every day. Its rather ironic, no? You make reservations through the girl who lost hers. You get directions from a girl who had none. Little do you know, this concierge in the cute suit, black pumps, and fresh bob hair cut, is on the upside of a quarter life crisis. Still want my opinion?
Why of course you do! Because, with the help of a patient therapist, supportive mother, and loving boy, I know who I am, what I value, and what I like. And what I like is food. So get ready readers, many of our conversations will be about sushi covered in strawberries, steaks with Gorgonzola cream sauce, pounds and pounds of chocolate cake, and other such delicacies. For you, this blog is about the stories of a hotel concierge. For me, it's about therapy, self identity, and hopefully, aiding other poor such wandering souls to feel hopeful when feeling hopeless, happy when sad, or lucky to be alive when everything seems to be crumbling. If all that fails you and you still find yourself hopeless, sad, and unlucky, I hope I can at least guide you to some good comfort food.
To the boy, everything is for you.
This growth, however, is not without its own set of growing pains and reservations. Notably, the boys, but in his position, who wouldn't have mountains and mountains of reservations? Working things out with the girl who left you two months before you were suppose to be married isn't a piece of cake, nor is it a boost to your self-esteem. The constant turmoil of self-identification, values, and expectations post-affair can often feel like a blowtorch to both parties lives. However, I have learned more in the last two months (with lots and lots of help from a therapist) about myself, my tendencies, my influences, and my own values than I have in the past 22 years. I hope this trend continues.
As that revolving door between life and work spins on, I deal with another kind of reservation: the second kind Google has to offer. I am a concierge at the largest hotel in downtown Austin. I make countless reservations for my guests to restaurants, tours, events, shows, whatever, every day. Its rather ironic, no? You make reservations through the girl who lost hers. You get directions from a girl who had none. Little do you know, this concierge in the cute suit, black pumps, and fresh bob hair cut, is on the upside of a quarter life crisis. Still want my opinion?
Why of course you do! Because, with the help of a patient therapist, supportive mother, and loving boy, I know who I am, what I value, and what I like. And what I like is food. So get ready readers, many of our conversations will be about sushi covered in strawberries, steaks with Gorgonzola cream sauce, pounds and pounds of chocolate cake, and other such delicacies. For you, this blog is about the stories of a hotel concierge. For me, it's about therapy, self identity, and hopefully, aiding other poor such wandering souls to feel hopeful when feeling hopeless, happy when sad, or lucky to be alive when everything seems to be crumbling. If all that fails you and you still find yourself hopeless, sad, and unlucky, I hope I can at least guide you to some good comfort food.
To the boy, everything is for you.
No comments:
Post a Comment