the good: getting your mess of a purse cleaned out.
the bad: why you need to clean it out.
the ugly: what you find when you clean it out.
it’s like carrying a huge trash can/changing table/snack bar/supply closet/office/bank on your shoulder. everywhere you go.
and it’s that first one that’s the most trouble.
a few months ago i was out with a friend and started digging through my bag. not a single diaper in site. but let me tell you i would KILL on let’s make a deal.
i had her in stitches as i pulled out item after item from my bag. some seemed legitimate: needle and thread, crochet hook and yarn, mints, wallet. others? not so much: one sock, a pair of underwear, an unopened and smashed cereal bar.
but still—amidst the trash and detritus there’s some important stuff in there.
so last week when i couldn’t find my purse anywhere in the house i got a little nervous. i searched high and low, finally thinking maybe in my sick haze i left it in the van. the day before i had done a walmart run. i was sick as a dog though, and by the time i got home i was pretty sure jeremy would return from work to find my dead body lying in our bed. it was all i could do to throw the cold stuff in the fridge and drag myself to bed.
and i was right—in my sick haze i had forgotten to bring in my bag.
i had left it sitting, wide open, on the driveway.
the good: i was fortunate—it was totally undisturbed. my wallet was sitting right on top in full view and was fine.
phew. close call.
i was relieved beyond measure. i scooped it up and threw it into the van—my search had already made harrison a bit late for the appointment i was taking him to.
the bad: 2 minutes into our trip harrison said “whoa! a big ant!”
gross. get it with a tissue.
“whoa! another one! and another one!”
you see where this is headed, right? stupidly happy to have found my purse unmolested by human hands, i neglected to consider the fact that my purse—which at this point is probably made of equal parts pleather and cracker crumbs—had been OUTSIDE.
i’m sure you can imagine me--frantic one handed driving, holding my purse in the air with the other hand.
my thoughts: WHAT DO I DO?? roll the window down and hang my purse out while i drive? pull over right here where there’s not actually anywhere safe to pull over? just hold it up in the air? yeah! maybe that will work!
uh huh. because obviously bugs don’t like, you know, jump.
but we arrived at our destination, and i did the most logical thing i could think of: threw the van into park, jumped out and dumped my bag all over the parking lot.
and then, of course, i took a picture of it. good blogger that i am.
the end of the story isn’t as exciting. we pretty much peaked at the purse dumping. i spent the next 15 minutes sorting through trash and junk, putting the stuff i was keeping into a plastic bag from the car and putting the trash back into the purse. no way i was keeping the bag—too big with too many nooks and crannies to ever be certain i’ve eliminated every 6 legged creature. no way i’m sticking a hand blindly into that.
oh—and of course explaining what happened over and over and over to everyone who happened to walk by and see a lady sitting in the parking lot with the entire contents of her bag spread around her, picking up and shaking each piece before putting it into a plastic bag.
yeah, that required some explanation.