I recounted the story over dinner tonight to my BFF Laura that this time last Friday I was on cloud nine. For the first time ever, I ended a semester without piles of essays to grade. No final exams to mark. The only school work hanging over me was entering a few scores in Engrade and turning in grades to the office. Folks, that is MAJOR for me. The night before grades are due, I'm usually pulling an all-nighter. I know a number of teachers who don't think a thing about being late with their grades, but I'm not one of them. Mine are going to be on time, by golly, even it it requires me to hook myself up to a Jolt IV and down a steady stream of Mountain Dews.
But that wasn't the case this time. I stayed on top of the paperwork these last nine weeks and was feeling quite encouraged by the end result.
Perhaps there is hope for me, I foolishly thought.
(Anyone who knows me well is enjoying a good belly laugh right now. I have always been extremely disorganized, and short of a divine miracle of the Almighty will probably always be that way. I hate that about myself, I really do.)
Fast forward two days to Sunday.
I was grocery shopping late in the afternoon, and as I so often do, went in the store carrying only my checkbook holder, keys, grocery list, and pen. I don't know why I hate carrying a purse, I just always have. I see lots of cute purses around these days, but I really hate the chore of switching purses to match outfits, so it's just proven much easier since I gave up diaper bags a couple of years ago to just carry the bare essentials.
Somewhere in the middle of my Target stop, I looked down and saw my little checkbook holder perched precariously near a large opening in the front of the cart, and a little voice in my head said, "You know, it's really not a good idea to carry all these little loose items around like this."
I agreed with the voice. After all, just how many times in my lifetime have I lost something important? Hundreds? Thousands? The Lord only knows ...
And so I made a mental note to find a good all-purpose purse that would match most, if not all, my summer outfits.
Unfortunately, my good intentions came a little too late. By the time I arrived home no more than 30 minutes later, I had lain eyes on my beautiful navy leather checkbook holder for the last time. As well as my driver's license, concealed firearm permit, debit card, and heaven only knows what else (no credit cards, thankfully).
I've given everyone I know permission if they see me in public without a handbag to please slap me. Hard. I don't ever want to have to visit the Revenue Office unnecessarily again.
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