The Mean Reds

If you’re unfamiliar with the phrase “the mean reds”, let me enlighten you. It’s from Audrey Hepburn’s Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Here’s the dialogue between Holly and Paul where she explains what the “mean reds” are.

Holly: You know those days when you get the mean reds?
Paul: The mean reds, you mean like the blues?
Holly: No, the blues are because you’re getting fat and maybe it’s been raining too long, you’re just sad that’s all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you’re afraid and you don’t know what you’re afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?
Paul: Sure.
Holly: Well, when I get it the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany’s. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real-life place that’d make me feel like Tiffany’s, then – then I’d buy some furniture and give the cat a name!

This past week has been an emotional roller coaster culminating in a case of the mean reds. My dinner last night consisted of a Chicken Sandwich from Chick-fil-A and an ice cream from Coldstone. I feel asleep on the couch with a splitting headache and went to bed around 8.

Why all the crazy, odd behavior? Because yesterday morning I dropped Max off for his deployment.

I know that being in the military means separation and deployments are inevitable. Max and I have done distance for the past three years and every time, it still gets me. Saying goodbye never gets easier, no matter how familiar you are with the prospect.

You’ll be driving home and a song will come on the radio that makes you laugh because it reminds you of them, but as soon as you realize this, it makes you cry because that person isn’t with you and they won’t be for the next four to five months.

I hate not knowing where he is or whether or not he’s safe. The uncertainty is paralyzing and it’s not a type of change I welcome with open arms.

Usually when I get a case of the mean reds, the only person who can fix it is Max. Nothing bad can ever happen when I’m with him. Before we met, my “Tiffany’s” was Barnes and Noble. Being surrounded by so many classic novels, the soothing background music and comfy, oversized chairs. I’d spend hours reading tragic love stories or juicy gossip magazines.

With Max gone, I need another Tiffany’s. The closest Barnes and Noble is up in Macon, nearly 30 minutes away. Books-A-Million is the closest substitute; it’s not nearly as spectacular as Barnes and Noble though. The chairs aren’t as comfortable, the coffee isn’t as good. Perhaps Starbucks or Panera? Who knows? Over the next few days, I’ll be searching for a Tiffany’s to chase away my case of the reds.

Until then, I’ll be catching up on my posts. I owe you a few fantastic entries about Disney World.

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