MY INTUITION IS A LIAR!
A true satirical story
We have all heard the phrase, “go with your gut, or what does your gut tell you?” I believe this phrase to be accurate in the case of men and women, but in women, I think it’s more intuition, that women are more intuitive than men, I know I am more so than my husband but then again, maybe not.
Besides having faith and relying on faith and prayer, I have always trusted my gut or intuition, which brings me to tell this story.
For at least twenty years, I had wanted to go to Maine! I wasn’t sure why, but when I would talk about it, I summed it up as a reincarnation experience of having lived there in a previous life.
I remember when I first started having the feeling of needing to go, but I never shared the story until I was asked.
Back in 2002, after I had moved back to Arizona in 2000, I had a realtor friend. I don’t remember how we met, but she told me about a house for sale that I should go see. I don’t remember if I was looking to buy it, however it was around the same time I bought my townhouse. I took her suggestion and when I went to see the house the owner was there. I don’t remember anything in particular about the house, except that when I asked him why they were selling, he said, “My wife wants to move to Maine.” I remember thinking, what a drastic change from Arizona to Maine. I will never forget that! It was like him saying that burned into my soul and despite everything else going on in my life, from then on, I knew I had to go to Maine.
Fast forward to 2020, now having lived in Texas since 2009, and married to Steven since 2011, we were finally going to soothe my wandering soul and take the trip to Maine together, but then, after the trip to the travel agency and paying the deposit, COVID caused the world to shut down. Everyone knows COVID was, and still is, real, but at that time, it wasn’t my intuition telling me, don’t go there?
After a few months, we finally got our money back and again, my hope of taking the New England trip was put away in the back of my mind.
So now it’s 2024 and we are thinking about planning our summer vacation. We knew we couldn’t go to Key West, FL., we had tried twice and had to cancel both times, same with Alaska, so maybe, now, this time we would be able to go to Maine.
We waited until two weeks before our planned departure date to make our plane reservations and when the day came and we were on the plane from San Antonio, I said,” We’re finally going to Maine.”
July 22nd, 4:00 p.m., we were wheels on the ground in Portland, Maine, “I can’t believe we’re here,” I told Steven as we walked, with our luggage in tow, across the parking lot to the rental car office.
It seemed as if half the world’s population had traveled there that day. All the rental car desks had a long line of people, the room was standing room only with people, their luggage, children, and babies with strollers, who are all these people and what are they all doing here? I sat on the only vacant spot on the bench and watched and waited as Steven stood in the long line waiting to get our car. When it was finally his turn, he motioned for me to join him at the desk, “They’re out of cars,” he told me. My mind was reeling with visions of us spending the night on the benches in the rental car office so whatever conversation occurred between Steven and the agent, I was unaware of, and fortunately, the next thing I knew we were walking out to the garage and putting our luggage and ourselves in the gray Nissan Sentra with Massachusetts license plates, still wet from the car wash, to be on our way to our hotel in Trenton.
The drive from the airport in Portland, ME. to Trenton, ME. is about 163 miles. It is a freeway some of the way, but, otherwise, it is a 2-lane road through small towns and communities lined with pine trees on one side and water on the other. The drive seemed long, like it was taking forever. We stopped to eat around 6:00, where I ate my first Maine lobster dish, after which we drove some more and finally arrived at our hotel after dark around 9:00. It had been a very long day. We had left home at 5:00 that morning, but still, I couldn’t believe we were there!
My intuition had not deceived me, yet.
We had planned our trip accordingly to be close to Acadia National Park. Our first full day there, we toured the park and hiked down to the water, where we met a fisherman who said he had some luck catching some fish whose names I didn’t recognize. Returning to the parking lot, we encountered a sea gull who, unthreatened by us or anyone else, made a perch on the roof of a red car parked next to ours. We spent the remainder of the day touring around, enjoying the scenery of the water, boats, and the New England style homes built of 2 and 3 stories with anywhere from 2 to 4 chimneys. Although most of them looked lived in and well maintained they gave the sense of having been there for centuries, reminiscent of generations of families living and making a living there off the rich, greenery of the forest and abundance of the water.
If this is a dream, please don’t wake me!
Our third day was Wednesday, although my day started with me sneezing and blowing my nose, and we were excited for our lobster boat trip. We took our time on the 12-mile drive to Bar Harbor since our trip was not scheduled until later that day. After eating a Maine style brunch that included their locally grown fresh blueberries, we walked along the harbor, through the shops and finally taking a seat on a bench facing the water where we could see the boats coming, going and docked. The weather was warm, but not hot, not humid like in Texas, the sun barely shone through the haze over the water.
Steven, on a whim, decided to ask if we could take an earlier boat trip rather than wait till our scheduled 4:30, luckily, we were able to get on the 11:30 trip. During the 2-hour trip, we saw 2 fully operational light houses, a lot of seals, sunbathing on the rocks and experienced the full extent of lobster fishing. It gave me a new appreciation of how expensive they are, it’s a hard job and a lot of work.
Hiking in the park, going on a lobster boat, seeing the light houses, even though, once we were there, we realized, there were other things we wanted to do, I felt fulfilled, I should have known better than to think that, once we arrived back at our parked car, we found a parking ticket and then on the 76 mile, hour and a half drive from Bar Harbor to Camden, we had to stop at a convenience store to buy Kleenex, due to my continuous sneezing and blowing my nose, I had gone through all the napkins and Kleenex I had.
Why wouldn’t my nose stop running, was this my intuition mocking me for being here?
By the time we reached the hotel in Camden, I just wanted to go to bed. Tired, achy but hungry, we walked 2 blocks to the closest, tiny restaurant, seating capacity of 40, waited until someone left, to sit and eat. I don’t know if the food was good, I just wanted to sleep.
Back at the hotel, I showered and was in bed by 8:00.
I couldn’t sleep, I hurt all over, tossing and turning but sometime in the early morning hours, when I finally managed to doze off, I heard her, laughing, my intuition, that lying, sneaky, witch, “ Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, I tried to tell you not to come here, you have no business being here, you don’t live here, this is not your home.” Trying not to disturb Steven lying next to me, I thought, this is it, I’m going to die here, this is why my soul has led me here, it’s here it wants to rest.
Well, I didn’t die, but the morning didn’t bring me any relief, I was exhausted, my whole body was fatigued, and I was still having to constantly blow my nose.
Our original plan was to only stay one night in Camden and even though I only felt like staying in bed, we checked out of the hotel and got back on the road. Our reservations were to stay our last 2 days in Oxford, ME. to be closer to the airport when we left on Saturday. During the 105-mile drive, there were things we would’ve liked to have done but because I felt so ill, we drove straight to the hotel. After we checked in at 3:00 p.m., I went to bed, which is where I stayed until Friday morning when Steven took me to Urgent Care.
COVID! “You have COVID.” The provider told me when he came back into the exam room with the swab results. I wasn’t surprised and, I knew I heard her mocking me, I thought to myself, you demon creature, are you happy now, you were right, I know we couldn’t come here before because of COVID, but why now, again, what is it about us, COVID and Maine? She wasn’t giving me any answers and I was too tired to care. With the provider’s suggestion, we decided instead of going home the next day, which was Saturday, we would go home on Sunday. Since I started getting sick on Wednesday, that would be 5 days.
By Sunday I was feeling better and ready to get out of that hotel room but by then of course, Steven was feeling sick. “I’ll be o.k.,” he told me as we packed up to head to the airport, “I’m not coughing, I just have a headache, sore throat and feel tired, let’s go.” As much as I had wanted and waited to go to Maine, I wanted even more to get back home to Texas.
Our return itinerary was the same, in reverse as when we went, Portland, ME to Charlotte, NC, Charlotte to San Antonio. We arrived at the airport with plenty of time, returned the car and were more than ready for our 4:00 p.m. departure, but then, delayed, delayed, delayed, delayed, until finally at 9:00 p.m., a long wait, a long time to question her evil motives, What the Hell is your problem? You punished me for coming here, you even made it abundantly clear that we need to go home but now, you’re stopping us!
American airlines did their best to accommodate us, there was a full plane and when we finally arrived in Charlotte that night at 11:30 p.m., they arranged for hotel rooms and shuttles to them for everyone. It was 1:30 a.m. Monday when we arrived at the hotel in Charlotte, which was o.k. except, our luggage had gone ahead to San Antonio, and we had to be out of the room and back to the airport by 11:00 a.m. I felt like a homeless person, wearing the same clothes as the day before, with no luggage and only a wannabe toothbrush the hotel had provided at check-in.
Finally, when we were boarding the plane to come home, I said to that wicked witch of my intuition, we’re leaving now and going home, and you can’t come with us! You have caused enough trouble now go away and bother someone else!
So…. In conclusion, I must say, my birthday twin/ bff, suggested I write this story with a sense of humor, I tried to do that by giving my intuition a mind of its own and taking the blame, however, nothing about having COVID is funny, that shit is NOT for sissy’s!
As far as the state of Maine, it’s beautiful, and the things that we did and saw were wonderful, I loved it and am not sorry we went, and I would go again to see and do all the things we missed. I got to go to someplace I had never been, meet some people I had never met, the waiters and waitresses in all the restaurants, the shop clerks and especially the captain and first mate of the lobster boat. So, regardless of what my intuition says, I’m not listening to her, she’s not the boss of me!
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1 comment
Whew! I'm exhausted just reading this story. I live in Massachusetts, so know Maine well, and you capture it well. I like the humor here too, despite all your travails. And, yes, you're intuition is not your boss. (Devastating critique :-) I don't think you need the first paragraph. Enjoyed this, a good tale.
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