Check Out Time

I spent fourteen years of my life working madly for aerospace industry (cabin interiors). It remains one of the most exciting fields to work in— the fast paced development cycle, style and the beauty of products in air, the party of insanity when a new bird gets delivered. It breaks my heart to see the hit this industry is taking because of the pandemic but where will it go really? So we must continue to look to the skies and all those long travels in the space we are destined for.

Anyway, so while I was a passionate worker for air, I got to travel some of the most exotic places far and beyond. While work stayed demanding and exhausting, I found many late nights of working out of lavish hotels by the sea. I have so many stories and adventures that I never put in diary and blogs or social media. I think that was a good idea. But now that world seems apocalyptic, I remember some of those days and share here randomly.

As I would get ready for next day’s early morning meeting with the airline, getting presentations approved by the Execs, and struggling through my jet lag, and an additional annoying ritual of straightening my hair, my nights would get longer and longer. I would often sleep for only couple of hours with lamp light on and to an isolation that managed to pile up over the years. But despite the tiring effort and its stress, these were times of glamour and success. My youth intoxicated with power of delivery and song of a leader. I wouldn’t have it any other way, despite the trauma and toxicity. So we live on, in an American dream.

Ok but really this post was going to be about corners of hotels. And I can’t remember now where I was going with all this. As I took a getaway this weekend, staying in a hotel after a long time, because of pandemic, all those memories came back. All these objects of a foreign room accompanying me in my projects of dreams and desires. This art on the wall, by anonymous, that red lamp and its shadow, a narrow staircase, an old phone, a French window, one exotic mirror…all these objects of a temporary stay, perhaps still waiting. As I, the manager, move on to a sea without compartments. One that has eye on the skies still. Always.