There is very little about me that could be considered middle ground. I tend to operate on one end of any given spectrum or the other. And in some cases, I operate on both.
My coworkers know me as someone who is super organized. I have always said that my desk, emails and work in general will always be kept in such a way that should I drop dead today, someone will be able to pick up where I left off tomorrow. When I had to start my maternity leave a week early, every thing was in order because I was preparing for a “just in case” departure for weeks.
My house, for the most part, tends to look like people don’t live here. Sure, we have our hot spots and there is one room that is the dumping ground for all the homeless items, but I likely won’t let you in there. My kid’s room could use some straightening, but aside of one stray dog toy and a sand art necklace, I see nothing else out of place on my first floor. It’s still never neat and clean enough, but that’s another matter.
There is, however, one place that despite my best efforts, I am an absolute disaster. My purse is like a black hole. I have a tendency to just throw everything in there. If someone hands me change after a purchase, I just drop the receipt and the cash and coins into my purse. When my jewelry starts getting on my nerves, I take it off and toss it in my purse. When I’m done with my credit card, I don’t bother taking my wallet back out (although, why did I put it back in the first place?), I just put the card in. There are stray receipts, hair ties, pens, crayons, toys, snacks – wrapped and unwrapped, paper clips and feminine hygiene products all free-floating in there. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you’ll find some fruit and some rocks. One Tuesday or Wednesday, I found a pair of balled up damp socks that I had taken off after wearing them outside in the rain the previous Saturday.
My purse is gross.
Knowing that I tend to suffer from chronic headaches, I often carry Advil or Excedrin Migraine with me. Recently, my bottle of Excedrin must not have closed properly because when I was looking for something I found only the empty bottle. Where was the top? Where were all the pills? On the bottom of the purse, amongst the crumbs, salt from an old bag of pretzels and loose change. Rather than rectifying the situation as soon as it was discovered, I shrugged my shoulders and went back about my business.
Several days later I awoke to that familiar ice-pick-through-the-temple feeling. Sighing, I used my patented move of tipping my purse to the side so I everything rolls to one corner and I fished out two Excedrin. I still did not put the rest back in the bottle.
About a week went by when my office mate asked if I had any pain relievers. I told her I did, but, her options weren’t great. I offered up the one Advil I had left or she could have as many crayon coated, crumby, linty Excedrin as she’d like. She didn’t understand how this could happen, so I showed her my purse. I started pulling out the contents onto my desk. This is not even half of it.
Here’s a close up of the Excedrin. The dark spots are either black crayon or something else. It’s best you don’t ask too many questions.
I did at this point gather up the Excedrin and put them back in the bottle. The rest of my purse, on the other hand, is still a mess.