So, a few weeks ago, when Stu and I finally got fed up of searching through Netflix and Amazon Prime, trying to find a TV show that we both wanted to watch ( finding the balance of football and fashion is hard) we decided to give up and watch from start to finish all of Stu’s Lost DVDs.
For those of you who haven’t watched Lost, it’s basically a drama about some people who’s planed crashed on an island and a load of weird stuff happens to them ( you can tell I’ve got a degree in English Literature and Creative Writing with amazing synopsis skills like that.) It’s really good until you get to the end but Sawyer’s, one of the lead characters, torso…sorry I mean Sawyer’s acting make it worth watching again.
Anyway, since we’ve been watching it I’ve been thinking about fate a lot and being lost. During my 32 years on this earth I’ve been lost many times – thankfully none of which have left me stranded on a desert island…yet.
My lack of direction skills and ability to get lost are so apparent that if I’m going somewhere new or to a job interview, I do always allow for a good hour of “Ali lost time” just to ensure I get there on time. Unfortunately, when I went to one of my first “proper” job interviews, this hour lost time wasn’t quite enough.
Getting ready for the interview I had everything set, I’d researched the company, rehearsed potential questions in my head a million times and of course had my very best “Ali goes to interview” outfit on.
However, when it came to checking the address of the company, I’d looked at the address that was on the company website and just assumed this was where the interview was going to be. Lesson, with interviews and probably just in life, don’t assume anything. The address I got off the website and went on to put in my vintage satnav I’d borrowed off my Dad was in fact just a postal mailbox.
After forty minutes of driving, I heard those fatal words “you’ve arrived at your destination” instead of seeing a magazine office I saw a row of postal boxes. My heart instantly sank and as I held back the tears I knew there was only one thing I could do as a strong independent woman determined to get the job…ring my Dad.
Dad, having a combination of a freakishly good knowledge of roads and father protective instinct then sorted everything out. He rang up the magazine found out the CORRECT address, explained that I was running ever so slightly late and gave me Liam Neeson from Taken style directions on how to get from where I was to the magazine.
Miraculously, the magazine didn’t find it that concerning that 1. I couldn’t read addresses correctly or 2. I required my dad to phone ahead for me at interviews and ended up giving me the job.
Another way I’ve been lost is a little less literal. Before meeting Stuart I often used to visit psychics and was really interested in finding out what my future held. At the time I used to think it was just a bit of fun and used to always come away from readings feeling excited and hopeful.
I hadn’t had a reading for over two years when one of my friends told me she’d started doing Tarot readings. As soon as she said it, I remembered how much I used to love seeing psychics in the past and asked her if I could have a reading.
As the reading began, my friend dealt the cards and asked me if I had any questions and what I wanted to find out. It was only then I realised that I wasn’t actually searching for anything now, I didn’t need any answers and I finally felt comfortable with where my future was going.
I’m not saying I was sad before when I was single or that I know exactly what the future holds for me and Stu but I know that now I’ve found him I’m no longer lost.