I’m currently flying back to Chicago. Long story short, I had to go.
As for today, I worked my ass off, Mallory said I did a kick ass job and that I was a great housekeeper.
As I was writing my last time card out, she says, “It’s just too bad you’re not staying for the big tip pool.”
There was a big group coming in today that was required to tip a lot, around 6k that would be divided between all of the employees. This wasn’t the first time she made a comment like that. I just didn’t understand the draw people had towards money.
I said, “Money is not all that important to me, Mallory.”
“It is important, though! You gotta live somehow.”
“In this scenario, my family is more important.”
“Eh, I don’t know,” she said, “money is also important.”
“At the end of the day, I will always choose family first.”
It’s such a trip to me, really. Yeah, I could’ve stayed and made an extra 2k or so, but at the very end of my life, I’m not going to look back on this moment and say, “Yeah, that 2k was fucking awesome.” I’m probably not even going to remember it. What I will remember is the time I got to spend with my family while I still could, while they were still here with me and healthy. I take with me the memories I shared not the money I made.
I noticed working these last few months how my face was 90% sad and tired looking. I felt anxious every night, falling asleep listening to reruns of How I Met Your Mother because I felt it took my mind off things. I noticed my acne broke out as if I was 16 again, in places I’ve never had acne. I feel like this shit happens when I’m going against my intuition.
I just truly didn’t feel happy. And it was one of the easiest jobs I had, however I thought about how every single day passed just cleaning rooms or folding laundry, when I could’ve been truly doing something I loved and spending time with people I loved. The money system is weird, an energy play to make it look like we couldn’t survive without it. A flimsy piece of paper telling us our worth is based off of how much we have.
I did an Irish goodbye with everyone except Jayson and Mallory. I didn’t really get along with anybody anyways. It felt good to know I would be on a plane again, leaving Gustavus behind. I won’t be back. I got my fix.
After work, Ford picked me up. He happened to be sad that I was leaving so suddenly, saying he was going to miss me. That’s another game I don’t like playing—the ‘sad energy’ of missing. I hoped him to be excited as I was for my sudden departure. I simply let him know I loved him.
He made me his amazing french toast while he showed me a route he made for us around Ghana, even taking a ferry at one point. Then, he drove me to the local airport. My last thought before the plane took off the ground was how delicious his french toast was. I waved goodbye to him through the small window. I could feel he was so in love with me, just by the way he looked at me. He keeps talking and writing about us falling in love in another lifetime, but I know he wants it to be in this one.
“Do you ever get tired of men hitting on you?” he had asked.
“It’s not a ‘tired of’ feeling,” I said, “it’s more of a ‘it makes me laugh’ kine feeling because I know these people are missing so much of me when they think they want to use me for sexual gratification.”
During the plane ride, I finished reading another note he had written me, probably my favorite one yet. It was about a dream he had, about our current lives and past lives intertwining through different realities of time, weaving into it a love story of dreams, fantasies, hopes and travels. I love that he honors me so deeply, finding me to be such an intricate miracle/gift. I wonder why the men I am actually attracted to are unable to see that.
