It’s restless, angsty feeling that keeps nagging.
I need a new purse.
I mean, I like my current purse. I do. But things about it are starting to bother me.
It slides off my shoulder at all the wrong moments (like while I’m holding a cup of coffee). And when it does bother to say on my shoulder, it’s just deep enough that my fingers don’t quite reach the bottom. The strap has a buckle on it that keeps catching my hair and pulling it, which I think is just mean. And as much as I love how big it is, I honestly can’t ever find anything. At all.
The problem is, I don’t know what kind of purse I want. So I can’t just go buy a new one. Because purses are very particular.
It has to be big, so that I can carry my kids’ McDonalds toys and extra packs of fruit snacks. And my husband’s keys. And water bottles. And my son’s DS and a notepad for Leah to draw in. So… big.
But it can’t be as big as the current one I have.
It needs just the right size pocket on the inside, to hold my cell phone (So I don’t lose it in the bottom with the pens and receipts and candy the kids collected at the St. Patrick’s parade). And another pocket to hold my keys, or I’ll lose them too.
And it has to not look like a mom-purse. I may be 30 and a mom, but I sure don’t have to advertise it with my purse.
It must be a color that goes with EVERYTHING. Because that whole, “match your purse to your outfit” thing? That doesn’t happen for me. I’m usually flying out of the house 5 minutes after I was supposed to have the kids at school. So changing bags to coordinate with my shoes isn’t a high priority.
It’s so hard, people. So hard to solve.
Hence, I’m left here longing for something, but not knowing what that something is. And until I discover it, I’ll just go on feeling angsty and unsettled.
If you work it, there’s probably a spiritual application right there. But really, I just want a new purse.