Thinking Out Loud
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"When a man meets catastrophe on the road, he looks in his purse, but a woman looks in her mirror." ~ Margaret Trumbull
I'm not brainy enough to entirely grasp the meaning of the above quote, but I will tell you MY interpretation of it.
A woman would not look in her purse during a catastrophe, emergency or any type of urgent situation, because we can NEVER find anything in the darn things anyway.
EVER.
Despite the fact we are lugging around enough in those leather abysses to survive on a deserted island for an extended period of time and then some, we have yet to figure out how to locate what we've so conscientiously packed.
My friends Sandy and Diana know what I'm talking about. They both come from homes with dysfunctional purses too.
We're baffled at how retrieving a breath mint requires a lighted miners's hat and a GPS unit. Or the simple act of finding a pen, becomes as difficult as diving for dimes at the bottom of the pool.
While blindfolded and wearing oven mitts.
A purse would be a useless item in any crisis I can think of. Unless, of course, the actual danger was a Zombie Apocalypse....
Then maybe.
In that case, we could use our overstuffed, heavily weighted purses as weapons and hurl them at approaching corpses.
I know mine alone could take a few out.
But, since the likelihood of bodies of rotting flesh, wearing tattered, bloody clothing on a mission to induct me into Zombie-land seems highly UN-likely, perhaps I should rethink the whole necessity of what I carry in my purse. There's a slight possibility I could reduce the load a bit.
It may NOT be imperative to weigh down my already tired, drooped shoulders on a 24/7 basis, with the likes of 3 bottles of perfume, 6 lipglosses, 2 Tide stain sticks, 4 notepads, a 2006 Red Wings souvenir hockey puck, a broken umbrella and a box of wet wipes.
That I live in civilization, never any further than 5 minutes away from a water source, suggests I could perhaps shelve a whole box of wet wipes and open up some room in my satchel. I could chance that I would be OK in the rare sticky finger emergency.
And a broken umbrella? Well, that's just stupid.
I will give it serious consideration and come up with a plan to organize what has become a constant source of frustration and hours of wasted time hunting down what I'm after.
It would be nice not to accidentally purse dial my CEO while I rummaged for my car keys and have him overhear the conversation of my latest pantyhose crisis.
So, priority ONE this week is to eliminate some of the useless junk and along with it the ensuing annoyance of futile searches due to unnecessary clutter.
I can do it.
But, the 2006 Red Wings souvenir hockey puck?
That stays.
It would make a great weapon against the Zombies.
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Diane Szczepanski |
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