A Reminder: Bloom Where I am Planted

I have written before about striving to be content in every situation, but let me tell you, the past two months have been a struggle. And it's all for ridiculous reasons that are so dumb and pointless, leaving me with no real case to complain at all. But none the less, I complain. And quite frankly, I am getting so sick of myself. Somewhere between residency and this new post residency life, I have become entitled. ENTITLED!? My own worst enemy. When did that happened?

But every morning when I leave our apartment there is this sweet little reminder for me to bloom where I am planted.

 

The apartment door of the 20 something year old girls next door (who loooove Taylor Swift, but I digress). 

And you kind have to see how dark and stale and void of natural light the little corridor that leads to all of the apartment units is, to really appreciate this decorating effort. Mums, y'all, MUMS! And me, the crotchety old lady next door saw them stick these out a few weeks ago and thought, those are never going to bloom. It's dark in here, they never see the sun. And you know what? They bloomed! (I obviously know nothing about mums)

To give you better appreciation of the contrast, this is my front door. A stick, in it's negotiated keeping place once it was established my three year old was not allowed to bring it in our house. And no doormat. I think in the back of my head it's been my notice to anyone who is wondering, including the Vanderbilt football players whose college experience was severely dampened when the parents with young children moved in downstairs, we are not staying. But we are. We're here and life is happening now. And despite my Pinterest board that I spent countless nights alone over the past several years curating for this phase of life, life does not look like that right now. And that's ok. Do you hear me Stephanie Sabbe!? It's OK.

But back to those mums, they bloomed! And I am going to do my best to do the same.