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Though it had only been four days since I had started my new job, I got a beautiful Christmas present from the office. It is a beautiful but quite large Mikasa vase with our organization’s logo etched into one side. I say “quite large” because it must weigh as much as a crawling baby.
As I left for the day I took a bag with my vase in one hand and my purse in the other. But here’s the sad part: I couldn’t tell which was heavier.
What is the deal with these gianormous purses we women carry around? I can understand mothers needing an arsenal of weapons to help deal with the Great Unexpected that comes along with any child; but what am I, childless, doing with such a loaded bag?
Let’s examine the contents. I have the essentials: Wallet with three credit cards, a debit card, two driver’s licenses (I can’t bear to part with the old one that has my maiden name), a library card, “frequent customer” cards for everywhere from the bakery outlet to my favorite mall store, insurance cards, some other random cards I can’t readily identify, and of course, a mountain of change. (Notice I didn’t say I have any cash. I don’t. That’s a weight I wouldn’t mind carrying, however.) The rest of the “necessary” stuff: Cell phone, checkbook, keys, iPod. (Yes, my iPod IS a necessity. Don’t question my need for music during a hectic, traffic-laden drive home.)
So what makes up the other 12 pounds of STUFF loaded into this bigger-than-a-bread-box purse? Well, for starters, if anyone needs a breath aid I’ve got one. Or six. I have four kinds of gum and two tins of breath mints. All in varying flavors, mind you. Then I have those weather-fighting essentials, sunglasses and gloves. Then those miscellaneous business must-haves, a flash drive and not one but two business card holders. I don’t even have business cards for my new job yet, but by golly I am prepared. And speaking of prepared, of course I don’t go ANYWHERE without a tube of lotion. I have to protect my hands from this cruel Utah winter weather, you know.
But now we get to the real culprit: Lipstick. And gloss. And chapstick. And lip liner. All together, I have nine instruments of lip beauty in this purse. Nine. It’s important to note that rarely do I even wear lipstick—but for some reason there they are, lying in wait for their day to come.
And finally, to top it all off, I have cold medicine and an orange. You know, should I suddenly get stricken with the disease and need first aid and Vitamin C right away.
So what’s wrong with me? Other than the fact that I’m as normal about my purse as the next gal, I admit that I’m living in a constant state of disaster. That’s not to say that my life isn’t organized; in fact, it’s just the opposite. I’m planning for disaster even before it strikes. It’s like going through my closet full of clothes I never wear: I can’t get rid of something I haven’t worn in two years because I might some day need a black sequined cardigan. I can’t go run to the store without my essentials because what if the sun is setting right in my eyes and I have to use a public bathroom and its terrible soap dries out my hands and I have no cash so I have to use my debit card or credit card or check?
So is there something wrong with me? To a degree, yes. I’ll be the first to admit it. But how far have I gone over the edge—or am I merely teetering near the cliffs? Do I use the word “paranoia” here, or am I just uber-prepared? You be the judge. All I know is my hands are dry and I am craving some Vitamin C. I can handle this kind of crisis, and once again all is well with the universe.
