No rest for the wicked

I landed in Seattle at about 1:00 PM today. By 2:00 my clothes were up in the closet. By 3:00 I was headed out to get on a bus and go downtown, feeling like I was going to take this town on all by myself . . . . I didn't need anyone to show me around.

Yenn helped me work out a bus route - then the bell boy sent me in the wrong direction. I walked 20 minutes one way before I realized I was in the wrong place. I almost called a cab to come rescue me. When I got back to the hotel, I spoke with the concierge who pointed me in a better direction, but when I got to the bus stop I realized I only had a $5 and needed to break it into smaller bills. By that time it was 4:30 or so. I'd had coffee to drink and not eaten all day. Yenn and I were working out how I'd get back on the same route when the dead battery beep sounded off on my cell phone.

That was how I ended up ordering room service. It wouldn't be an adventure without wrong turns, but part of me blames the bell boy for giving me bad directions to the address I gave him. I wish that I was someone who could take it in stride. I wanted to feel totally independent and instead I feel like I failed.

I got hung up on wishing that when I booked my flight several months ago, I had advertised to my friends that I was coming out here . . . It would be nice to have someone to spend my evenings with, and Yenn would have most likely been able to.

Thing that's bothering me the most is that independence thing: Just a few days ago I was in a canoe that flipped over in the Colorado River. It absolutely terrified me, but I got myself out of the water without any help. It felt amazing! 

I wanted that feeling back.