No doubt, Women of Faith want to know what’s in my purse because they’ve lost something and strongly suspect I might have accidently dropped it into my bag.
This writing exercise came at a great time–It’s time to clean out the old winter bag and pull out the summer bag. So I’m going to bring all of you along with me for this ride. Fun, fun.
There was a day when my bag consisted of a wallet, lipstick and a key. My life was much simpler and well, child-free. Commitments–to husbands, children and employers–bring…stuff. And stuff I have.
TARDIS, for my non-BBC friends, stands for Time And Relative Dimension(s) In Space. The Doctor always says his time machine is “bigger on the inside than it is on the outside” because, basically, it is stuck in the form of a British Police Call Box. Now I’m not going to get into whether or not I would trust a TARDIS that was stuck in Police Call Box mode, but then again, I’m not the Doctor.
But I digress. Below are the contents of my purse. As you can see, the purse must be bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. Actually I’m missing a few things. Usually there is food–at least one Odwalla bar and a least one book. But I’d actually eaten the bar and had moved the book to my nightstand. Admitting I have a problem is the first step to solving it, eh?
The mustard packets aren’t as odd as the might initially appear. The Girl bought me a pretzel during our 3:30 “get you from school and go one of 50 million places” run. I didn’t realize my sunglasses were broken (there were actually two in there) and I’m really bummed because they were one of my favorite pairs.
Believe it or not, this is a bag within a bag (a TARDIS within a TARDIS?) Isn’t that cool? It folds up and zippers so I can use it when I need a secondary bag. And in that pile of papers is a 2005-2006 calendar. One of those that are in the plastic window in the pocket of the purse. Okay, that’s just sad.
The Parking Violation slips (mid-right of pile) have made there way onto a few cars over the years. Sometimes people are just so inconvenient–like the person who took up FOUR parking spots during a blizzard so his car wouldn’t get dinged. I’m not going to key it–that wouldn’t be right. But I felt I needed to remind him that he was not being nice. The lot was already missing several spots because of all the snow piles so parking was even more limited than usual. So I slipped this little gem under his window (and, yes, I do realize I am being sexist–assuming the driver was male).
Parking Violation: You are an inconsiderate person. This is not a real ticket, but it should be. Because of your rude and lame attempt at parking you have taken enough room for an army and a circus. You have received this ticket in hopes that you will learn to think of others before parking in the future. You probably change lanes without using a turn signal too. I hope your engine blows up during rush hours on your birthday!
See–just a little reminder to be nice.
As a writer, I have to have the books. Right now there are two that I’m using as I’m working on my book. I can’t possibly come up with an idea and not be able to write it down. Which is why I have a dozen pens and pencils. A high percentage of them are either dried up or broken so I’m trying to cover all my bases.
Yes, I do have a box of crayons. I also have a two year old. So let’s just say they are hers. The Girl bought me the fancy tissues with the leopard print on them. They are ALMOST too good to use (see my entry Use the Good Dishes).
I think I have a few more dollars than what was in the bottom of my bag–but I wouldn’t swear by it.
The rest of the pile consists of reading glasses (sans case, so they will likely end up broken soon), a thumb drive (gotta keep the data), a pile of receipts (but never the one I actually need), my pass to get into my job, a cell phone, stale gum that is stuck to the wrapper, keys, and shrinky dinks. What? you don’t have shrinky dinks in your purse? Heck I have more unshrunk ones on my kitchen counter. I hope that next week’s Wednesday blog isn’t my kitchen counter. That would just be too embarrassing.
The bag a woman carries says a lot about her. Organized? Simplifed? Creative? All business? If someone knew nothing about me, what would my bag tell them? My key chain holds a braid of yarn that The Girl made me, a library card and a small braided dongle with a cross at the end. It was a gift from my Sistas (aka The Bad Moms’ Club). Every time I see it, I think of my Sistas and offer up a prayer for them.
I think the thing that most defines me in my purse is actually in my wallet (which is a whole other archeological dig). No, it’s not the credit cards but something that I used to keep on my checkbook when I carried it–see, I AM simplifying. I keep this in my wallet so I see it whenever I buy anything. It helps me keep things in perspective.
Please let me never forget how rich my life is right at this moment.
Please let me never forget that all I have is all I need.
Please let me never forget to give thanks.
|So, take a look at the before and after photos. I’m ready for summer. I’m not quite sure what the Women of Faith were looking for. But I’m pretty sure it isn’t in my purse.
What an excellent exercise in cleaning my spirit. I got rid of the old and made way for the new.
|And this one looks like it has plenty of room for more stuff!|