We all have our stuff, our things that are important, things that we need to get through the day
I realized the other day that my bag is huge, but then, I have a lot of baggage. I always wonder why people carry what they carry.
So, this is kind of an explanation and kind of a purse exploration, and kind of a random thoughts post.
The most noticible things in my bag are a book and my notebook.
I read, voraciously, incessantly. I love words, I love how they go together. I love delving into the worlds that people imagine. It feels like in a small way, there is a connection between me and the person who is telling the story. Today’s book is Midnight Crossroad by Charlaine Harris. I’ve always wondered how to pronounce her name… is it like Charlene? Or is it like plane, Charlaine… prettier that way.
I write, all the thoughts in my head. I make notes about what I want blog about, ideas that pop into my head, things I want to research. I make lists, grocery lists, to do lists, books I need to read lists. I write the poetry that needs to be let out, the rants that make me angry and all the dirty thoughts that I can’t do anything about in that moment.
A pocket knife, it’s useful and it makes me feel better. Because, I carry fear. Maybe not in my purse, but it’s there. Someone might attack me, rape me. I need to protect myself, my daughter. I remember thinking the other day that she isn’t afraid enough. I was talking to another mom and she told me she showed her daughter some news clips about kids being kidnapped so she would be more careful. I don’t want my daughter to have to carry fear with her. It’s exhausting.
A one hit. Hey, I need to calm the anxiety. Get rid of that fear for just a minute. I need to clear my head and take a breath. Just for a minute. People ask me if I smoke. Yeah, I do, so I can breathe. You can tell a pot smoker from a cigarette smoker when they answer “not cigarettes” to the question, do you smoke?
Dig deeper, the usual stuff, my wallet, my keys. My little bag with business cards, my square, and extra phone charger and cord. Some tissues and napkins, tampons. Checkbook and a pen. And a marker. And a pencil, just in case.
A nail file, never used, because I forget that I’m supposed to be perfect, my nails chip and I just rip them off. Usually they get so long that they break when I dig them into her back when I’m orgasming. Is that a word? Maybe that’s a good time to stop and use the nail file.
Lipstick, about 3 years old, because I never remember to care if my lips are red enough. I used to carry eyeliner too, but the little cover would come off and I’d end up with eyeliner on everything.
Jellybeans. Does it really need to be explained? Jellybeans can make anyone smile. Always carry jellybeans. Gummy bears work too.
Loose change, I never understand how I end up with so much loose change in my bag, its supposed to be in my wallet. Change must be one of those mysterious items. Like socks. I have so many single socks, I decided not to bother matching socks anymore. The result? A bucket of socks that thrills my daughter amd mismatched socks. She likes to find silly matches for me. I’m happy as long as they feel the same.
We’re at the front pockets now, the important stuff. More change, index cards with more lists, 2 plastic diamond shaped jewel from a dance recital, that have the word inspire written on them. Hand sanitizer, for emergency use. People use that stuff too often. You know there are good germs too right? And you cant build up immunity if you never get sick. Getting a cold now, means you won’t catch that cold when you’re 95, in a hospital and no one will give you the freaking hand sanitizer! Ever notice it’s on the walls outside the rooms in hospitals? That’s cause now you have all the germs. Hospitals are germ breeding grounds, between the hand sanitzer and the air vents, it’s a miracle people get better. Open the freaking windows!
A button, a Bobby pin, some mints amd my daughter’s hair clip from today. Her headband from yesterday. A flower, in pieces. He gave it to me at the park. It will probably stay in there until it turns to powder in the bottom of my bag.
A handful of pills, motrin and benadryl, because I also carry constant pain. My back, my joints, the headaches, the horrible, pounding headaches. So my choice is, deal with it and take a couple motrin, or complain to the doctor, so they can give me stronger pills. Yeah, that worked well. I wasn’t in pain but, I can’t take care of monkey if I’m passed out drooling. I’ll just deal thanks.
Another button, a rock, this rock, it’s a special rock, its been with me through a lot. A worry stone? Is that what they’re called? No, I dont play with it, a good luck charm? Maybe, except I don’t really believe in them. I know what it is, it’s a memory. I’ll keep that one to myself though.
A saftey pin and another pen. My good pen, my pen for writing. It’s not all that special but it fits in my hand right. It seems to help the words come out. I’m writing on a tablet tonight and its a pain in the ass, I miss my laptop.
My back pocket has the odds and ends, usually trash my daughter hands me when there isn’t a trash barrel around but some other oddities too.
A candy wrapper, tissues, a bottle of nail polish, oooh! Now I want to do my nails! A receipt, or 4. More loose change and a bracelet. An allergy bracelet, that I probably should wear and not just carry. A metal disk the size of a coin, with a heart stamped on it. Another memory, a painful one.
So, those are my things. Those are the permanent purse dwellers, things are added all the time, and sometimes I even clean out all the trash.