Little Debbie in the Big World: WANTED: Back Purse

I have back pain. It's true. And I carry a lot of stuff in my purse. Also true. But I need it all. I need giant sunglasses to cover my allergy eyes, and I need a giant case to make sure the giant lenses don't get scratched. I need my planner because I have a terrible memory. I need my pencil case because it contains my allergy medicine, lactose pills, anti-diarrhea medication, my lip gloss, hair clips for when my hair gets in my eyes and a spare tampon. I need my wallet because you never know when I might need ANY of the numerous frequent buyer cards stored there in. I need my cell phone, just in case I miss the bus and have to call Jan. And I need my waterbottle because when I get dehydrated I get headaches and become very cranky. And all of this puts about 10 lbs. of weight on my right shoulder. It is also true that I love my current purse (because it is probably the best purse ever made by man's hands) and that I have a firm belief in one's right to look hip, not be in pain, AND carry all 10 lbs. of one's much needed effects.

So my brother says, "Deb, you should carry a backpack." And I think, "Well that's an idea! That would at least equally distribute the 10 lbs. onto both my shoulders, hence reducing the aggravation of my self-diagnosed scoliosis. I'll just find a backpack that is cute." But after many adventures in Macy's, Urban Outfitters, Filenes and Marshalls, I've come to this conclusion: back packs aren't cute. And backpacks aren't like dogs, where sometimes they are so ugly, they're cute. The ugly ones are just ugly. And the cute ones are ugly too.

So there I am, Marshalls closes at 9pm, it is 8:55 and I find a backpack/purse that could do. So I buy it, knowing I can return it if need be. I carry it around, price tag flapping in the wind, get home, put it on my desk, get ready for bed, and then, while in the midst of my pre-slumber meditation I think, "That is the ugliest and stupidest purse ever," and I resolve to return it on my lunch break today.

I relate this to my life as a whole in the following way: life is too short to carry an ugly purse, no matter how much better it makes your back feel. I would rather have my back hurt than my soul.