Last night Toby noticed I had my bag with me. We went to see a show at the Black Cat and we didn’t leave the house until 9:00 and there was no real reason why I needed my bag, I told him it was to hold my camera. But I could have put my camera in my pocket. So there it was, my bag, drooped over my shoulder, a totally extraneous character in the movie of my life. But it got me thinking about my bag. My bag is sort of heavy. It is sort of noticeable. What is in my bag? Have I actually moved anything lately? Have I been somewhere and said,
Thank goodness I have my bag with me!
I have that thing you need… I have it in my bag!
No. I haven’t. I’m not sure why I take it everywhere. I just know that one day I’ll be somewhere and NEED something in the damn thing. What? Well, it might help to know what I actually have in it.
THE CONTENTS OF THE BAG.
One United States Passport.
(Not sure why).
My checkbook from my canceled account in Brooklyn
One zip disc, sans a case.
One Motorola phone.
(which has other stuff in it, but that’s way too much).
A bottle of Yes! Natural Mood Support.
(I obviously never take).
One packet of Emer’gen-C.
One Pink Hi-liter.
Keys to my brother’s apartment in NYC. (My old one).
A small, round piece of wood.
All of my bills and pay-stubs since the day I moved here in a folder.
Two natural, cotton feminine products.
One mystery CDR
A train ticket from NYC to Washington DC
A calendar. Blue
One Elph camera.
Two rings and one 8 Mile movie stub.
Some eye cleaning stuff. (It’s in a plastic tube thingy. Free sample).
Tube of some sort of Herbal Zit-away.
4 Barrettes and a tube of lip balm.
One banana. One, fairly old clementine.
A candle and a small plate to put it on.
And I ask you, what is wrong with me? No one needs this crap. Does it make me feel better knowing I have “stuff” on my person? I think I need to do something about “the bag”. What do other people always have on them? Am I missing something?