Hey Lady, Why the Big Purse?
Trust this 'lady', it all starts out innocently. And somewhere between buying it and hauling it around, something goes horribly wrong.
So here's the deal, we have these grand idea's of stocking up on all the thing's that we seem to always need. I see my bag filled with aspirin, an antacid, lotion, comb, band-aids, nail clippers, a finger file, gum... maybe even Q-tips, tissues and deodorant-well, it's big enough. Oh and don't forget the usual purse suspects, a wallet and cell phone, pens and a notepad.
Okay, so this is when reality comes into play... our purses end up being a pile of receipts, boxes of candies, miscellaneous papers we thought were important at the time, our kids coasters from various restaurants (because HE collects them), garbage (because we don't litter), coupons we never use, books we think we'll read on our lunch break, last years registration form with an expired insurance card from the last time we renewed our vehicle plates, a birthday card we forgot to send, a wine cork from that really great bottle of wine we had six months a go, splenda packets-cause you never know (we avoid the tb taco sauce as it only takes once when it opens to be reminded never to do that again) at the bottom of our purses you'll find jelly beans-don't ask from when, thumb tacks (don't ask), wipey packets from a wing place (you may need them someday) and maybe a protein bar (you might not have time for lunch or dinner-instant meal).
So, when you are on your way to work and you realize you forgot to moisturize your face, put on deodorant and snag a nail at the gas pump... there is nothing of real value now in this big bag. When you are into your day of papers and filing and need an aspirin-nope, their not there either-maybe an empty bottle of what used to be, but nothing that will help you know... you pull over the side of the road because you finally get the call you've been waiting for only to be told you'll have to contact another number and you need to write it down, but wait, you don't have a pen in there after all, not even an eyeliner or crayon.
It's a viscous circle we trap ourselves in, much like a new round-a-bout at a busy intersection... our intentions are pure when we take that big ole bag to the check out, kind of like that weight bench you bought thinking you were going to get 24" pythons.
At the end of the day we're all humans and most of us... well, we just get distracted, so hold up that big bag ladies and show us your 'pythons' guys...