So tonight I was literally locked IN my hotel room. I couldn't get out for anything!! The steel door handle wouldn't turn far enough for me to unlock the door. After attempting to open the door for several minutes and ruining a good pair of shoes in a desperate attempt to kick the handle downward, I decided to call the front desk. To be honest, I was worried that I wasn't able to open the door because of my wussy muscles, or at least a poor grip. So when I called the front desk and the young, buff guy said he'd come right over, I expected to be embarrassed. I couldn't decide whether to be happy or freaked out that the young kid couldn't get the door open either--and he was banging, kicking, rattling...everything.
"Are you here to rescue me?" I asked through the door, in my best Rapunzel voice.
"If I am, I'm the worst Prince Charming EVER!", he replied.
After two minutes of this unsuccessful jousting with the door, the room phone rings.
"Cell Block B", I answered.
After a brief chuckle (I think he was relieved I wasn't freaking out) he informed me that the owner would be over soon with his power tools and not to worry.
So I settled into the copy of USA Today that they provided me upon check-in, hoping that a little nonsense would distract me from thinking too much. But I found my reading interrupted after only a few minutes. Perhaps it's an occupational hazard, but I couldn't help but start to wonder about all of the "what ifs" of the situation. You know, scenarios such as "What if there was a fire? How would I get out? (Answer, throw the chair through the window; yet another reason why I ask for a ground floor room all the time) Cause that's what rational people think about in times like this, right? *grin*
Eventually power tools started whirring. (Seriously, it sounded like the "jaws of life".)
Oh, did I mention I'm a bit claustrophobic? Thank goodness it was a king-sized room?
After no progress for several minutes, I find myself wondering how many days could I live off of my left over moo shoo pork along with my 2 quarts of water. I have a 30 day supply of my vitamins at least.
After pounding, drilling, kicking, rattling, and a few choice words spoken on the other side of the door, it finally opened--along with a sincere, emphatic apology, an offer to move me to a suite, and a thank you "for being SO nice and understanding." It was at that point that I was reminded once again that there's simply no substitute for Mental Preparedness. Anyone can have a meltdown when things don't go well. And I admit, I have my share of them, but for some reason, I found this situation to be somewhat comical. (Even more so when the door to the new suite would NOT lock and I then had to be moved AGAIN. Yep, you can't make this stuff up, folks. *grin*)
In the midst of a crisis, regardless of how serious it may be, those of us who will focus on the solutions and what CAN be done, will be a a real blessing to those around them. When we freak out, fret, worry, or fear, we literally lose the mental capacity to solve problems, recognize real dangers, and even physically function. And the truth is that nothing good would have come from me hollering or being grumpy or freaking out in this situation. The same is true for any other crisis? Grant it, folks may look at you like you've got three heads when you're being positive and upbeat amidst a "crisis", they will also come to trust you and allow you to help them quickly. Car wreck, earthquake, flood, or losing 70% of your retirement fund overnight--it doesn't matter what the scenario is, Mental Preparedness will be significantly more valuable than any "stuffs" you may have on hand. And that, my friends, is what you call Peaceful Preparedness.
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