masking & unveiling

There's a little cycle I go through about once a month that makes me irritable, cranky and tired of living. When I feel it coming on, my productivity takes a dive, my choices seem more difficult, and every little thing annoys the heck out of me. I alternate between bloated and thin, back and forth in some kind of crazy metronome of femininity.

I'm talking about the decision of whether to carry a Big Purse or a small purse.

The Big Purse has so much going for it. I can carry everything I need and then some, toting my makeup bag, enough tissue to wipe a thousand sneezes, and the Best Thing to Ever Happen to Someone With a Genetic Predisposition to Drop Food on Themselves: THE TIDE PEN. If I happen to acquire Important Things during the day, the school papers, staff meeting notes, DVD rentals, impromptu kid-art projects and leftover napkins from Chipotle can all live happily together in the bag.

For about a month after I switch to the Big Purse, I'm content. I am never out and about without the things I need -- slung right over my shoulder. It's a fabulous I'm Prepared for More Stuff Than You'll Ever Be kind of feeling.

Then the wheel in the sky keeps on turning.

My phone is ringing.... and it's somewhere in this pocket.... ringing....no, it must be over here in this one.... ringing .... For the Love of Pete! I Can Hear It! WHY CAN'T I FIND IT? Bleep: You have a voice mail.

Soon after that, I stick my hand down to look for something and come up with a snotty Katy Kleenex that I stuck there last week because I didn't have a trash can nearby... And then I swear that my travel-size hand sanitizer was Just Right Here, but it must have sanitized itself out of existence...And this coupon that I just pulled out instead, oh crap, I forgot it was down here, and would you look at that, now it's expired, and I MISSED MY BUY ONE GET ONE FREE SANDWICH AT CHICK-FIL-A.

Add in the Pain in the Neck that comes standard with the Big Purse, and I begin to think that, really, truly, I should be able to edit my life down into something smaller. Something where I'd only have What I Really Need. Life would be simpler, cleaner -- dare I say, greener. And thus, out comes the small purse, streamlined to hold only the barest of necessities.

Which works just fine for about three weeks, until I drop Kung Pao Chicken all down the front of my sweater.