I was asked this morning by a dear friend if I ever “feel lost?” Those are big words “feel lost.” To me feeling lost was the first few days on my antidepressant medicine in the city when it messed with my brain and I couldn’t find my way home despite the fact that I had walked the route a million times before. It that what is? To be emotionally lost? To have taken the steps before but to not know where you are?
I bring this up because I had an interesting connection with a friend that I worked with more than 12 years ago for many years.
You see I dream of working at the hotel all the time; I would have liked to have stayed there and worked shit out. But it wasn’t meant to be. The only touch I have with the people I worked with is facebook. And didn’t realize I had any “live connections” to the halls of the lord nelson.
But this friend posted all her clip boards at her new job just like we would have room orders and function specs to fix for the day at the old hotel. How many chairs needed to be set how many water glasses needed to be polished etc.
And then I realized I organize this way too: LOL. I don’t have room for clip boards but I hang poem ‘works in progress’ up on the wall with a binder clip and a tack and sort them all in little trays when they are ready to be sent away. It was heart warming to me that I had taken that piece of the hotel with me. The icing on the cake was that I showed her the picture of my wall and she said: “Ahh all the room service breakfast orders”. And I was like yeah, “that what I did” it’s not just in my dreams, I wasn’t there alone and I didn’t leave it all behind. SO I guess I was a little lost before this happened.