Beautifully Twisted

I wrote this little piece when I was working as a Guest Services Representative at the Best Western Freeport Inn in Freeport, Maine. I found it on my old Myspace and thought it was a fun one to share :)

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Today is an appallingly beautiful day. It's appaling to me because after such a horrible and treacherous winter, any day that even whispers hope of sunshine seems fantastic while days like today, which are truly stunningly perfect just leave me... stunned. Of course today had to occur today, though, as today is my double-shift Wednesday, the one day a week when I am confined to a small lobby for 16 hours straight. I answer phones, talk to guests about how beautiful it is, and wish them pleasant nights while I silently beg to be kidnapped and abandoned somewhere nearby but not anywhere I can easily get back to work from so that I may enjoy this awesome weather guiltlessly. I wish I were at the park walking my dog, walking a trail by the bay, or even just sitting on my balcony that overlooks the parking lot of my apartment complex. Instead I'm doomed to sitting here in the lobby of the hotel watching the sun set behind the tree line next to the highway as the day slips away. I'm grateful that the phones are quiet and that the office is seperate from the rest of the inn so that I can sit here and wallow in self pity in solitude.
Truthfully, I don't mind being here alone on the most perfect Wednesday that Mother Earth has granted us Mainers so far this year. Truthfully, there was one splendid day last week that I completely wasted, although I had every intention of taking my Husky for a walk along Baxter Ave. in Portland. It's just that the TV sucked me in. I feel disgusted with myself as I remember that because missing out on beautiful days makes me not only sad, but nervous. Always the pessimist, the joys of a gorgeous Spring day are usually overshadowed by the notion I harbor somewhere deep inside that this might very well be my last chance to enjoy the sun. I'm so morbid. But I'm resinged. I can't help that I lie awake a night praying to the unknown that I'm not in a car accident tomorrow or get diagnosed with terminal cancer and given one hour to live. I am a prisoner of my own dark imagination. The worst part is that I don't really fear death. I fear having to stare Death in the face and regret not doing the same to Life. I just know that as I suck in my last breath, as I watch in slow-mo the semi-trailor careening inevitably toward me in my matchbox sized Toyota, that my last thought will be, "Damnit. If only I had made the most out of yesterday's beauty by walking Buddy in stead of watching What Not to Wear on TLC." SMASH.

Old Video of my Freezin' For A Reason Polar Plunge

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