Days are days

I have had one hell of a week. Monday, the most dreaded day of the week for most, was, as it is, the best day of them all for me. Tuesday was beginning the downhill cycle and, as with any steep decline, it was fast and furious. Tuesday rolled into Wednesday and Wednesday into the Thursday all the while perpetuating the spinning madness into a horrific cyclone. With each passing day, the hope was for the next to be better. Friday, I thought, would offer reprieve but, alas, I was wrong. On my way home that evening, I noticed the temperature gauge on my car kept creeping to up to "hot". Thinking I needed coolant, I bought some and proceeded to pour it into the wrong place in my car. (Well, I had Jordanne pour it in there. Luckily she is smarter than me and realized that where I was telling her pour it was the wrong place! Turns out where I wanted to pour is an overflow for coolant...who knew?!) To top off this blunder of a week, I was informed by a friend that in her opinion I wasn't being a good friend to her. Moments after I crossed the finish line, I read the text and ended the JDRF walk in tears.

On the brink of losing my sanity, I did what most people do in moments of distress, I called my Mama. She listened patiently as I sobbed in her ear about events and people she knows nothing about. After releasing a deep sigh I could tell she too was getting emotional. She then offered, "Melanie, days are days." I wasn't exactly sure what she meant by this so I just listened. She went on to explain that many years ago, when Tiff, Brooks and I were little ones, she was having a extremely rough day. Brooks, my baby brother, tried to comfort Mama. As she recounted her horrible day (kid friendly version 7.0) he looked into to her eyes and said, "Mama, days are days." What Brooks reminded my Mom of is that days are just that...days. Yep, today was a bad, nasty, ugly, horrible, rotten, stinkin' day but, if you're lucky, tomorrow you will get to see the dawn of another. It seems simple, I know, but, in the midst of my heartache, I found comfort in my brother's words as well. (This event meant so much to Mama that she had the phrase tattooed on her lower back by none other than Brooks.)

My weekend did turn out to be pretty good despite it's rough start. I completed Saturday with a new hair cut and color, an hour long massage and a 45 minute facial. Not too shabby!! As a new week approaches, I am well aware of the many challenges already headed my way but I am determined to grant each day the grace that is bestowed to me each morning. And if I run into a bad one (which I am certain I will) then I will remind myself of my brother's words...days are days.


Mel

For a number of years, while in Arkansas, I talked, dreamt and threatened to move to Atlanta. I wanted to leave boring, small Lowell, Arkansas. My gal pals and I would chat on the phone for hours discussing what life could be like if I were there. After each conversation I was ready to jump in my car and drive. (If you knew me then you would know this sort of action is not unlike me. I mean, I have been known to escape during the midnight hour. But I digress.) In October of '09 I decided to make my big move. I gave my 2 week notice at work and wouldn't you know 2 days later I landed my crack in the hospital. Um, yeah, not exactly how I had planned this to go down. Needless to say, my plans were put on hold and I stayed in NWA (Northwest Arkansas that is). In February, I decided to embark on my eastward bound adventure once more. This time I hit the jackpot.I had some pretty grand ideas of what life was going to be like once I landed in the ATL. My biggest goal was to secure a job at Children's Health Care of Atlanta. Once a job was established, everything else would be pie. I would hang with the girls by the pool and shop. I would go to concerts, explore downtown, and experience all that living in a big city has to offer. Ahh, if only life complied with my dreams.

Upon my arrival things really seemed great but eventually I got comfy and reality set in. I was working from home during the first two months after I moved. Within a week of leaving my Arkansas job, I snagged a job at CHOA. With my weird schedule and trying to get settled, I didn't really push to find new friends. All of my spare time was spent sleeping and hanging out with my pals. It didn't take very long to see that my very snarky, sarcastic humor was much funnier when delivered over the phone...and toward someone else. The one thing I absolutely love about life is the process of learning because learning leads to growth. The one thing I absolutely hate about life is learning because learning usually involves pain. And growing pains really, really hurt. Slowly as the months passed I began to see that though we loved each other, my friends and I were used to a long distance friendship not an in your life everyday friendship. Other than my friends, my job was going great but the commute was wearing on my nerves and patience. And to top it all off, I began missing Arkansas like crazy. I missed my friends. I missed the slower pace. I missed everything. I was very much surprised to realize how much I longed to be back after wanting so desperately to get out.

Almost 7 months later here I sit. And as the song goes, "All my bags are packed. I'm ready to go..." I have decided to head back to Arkansas. Many reasons have lead up to this decision but when it comes down to it, I simply want to go. Saturday I will make the long journey back and Monday I start my new job at my old company. I am so extremely excited...almost giddy (which makes me feel a little retarded). When I told one of my coworkers that I was moving, she asked "Do you think it was a mistake to move here since you are now going back?" I thought for a moment and replied, "No." I am glad that I moved to Atlanta. I had contemplated being here for so long! I believe my regret would have been in not giving it a shot. My regret would be walking away from my time in Georgia and not having learned more about myself or about life. I got the job I wanted and I was successful at it. It is bittersweet to leave. I am sad to leave my friends and my job but am I ashamed to tuck in my tail and scurry back home? Absolutely not!! I look forward to my new beginning...my new old life. It's gonna be be good. :)

It's about time!

For well over a year my friend Courtney has been bugging me to write a blog. And for well over a year, I have been attached to this blog. However, as you can see, nothing has been written. To say I am a lazy slacker is quite an understatement. Here I am though...finally. It's about time! Sadly, today I haven't much to say. This is true only because I am packing....well, I'm suppose to be packing. For someone who possesses little, it is taking me forever to get my rear in gear and get things done.

So what is Floozie with a Flask all about? Who knows. It brings to my mind a 1920's flapper with her bobbed hair, burning cigarette and her rebellious love for pushing social norms. This vision makes me chuckle as it is not at all indicative of the lifestyle of the writer...just an aspiration.

Ugh...now to finish packing. Happy Sunday!!

Melanie