A Hot Mess

A few years ago, I remember my aunt telling me that nobody would know my room was a mess when they looked at me. She thought I "put myself together" pretty well. I agreed with her for the most part. I put on a good front.

I feel that since I have begun what is considered the real world, which consists of a job, cooking, grocery shopping, taking care of a house, my togetherness has greatly diminished. My room, however, is not such a mess. But, to be honest, I'd rather have things how they used to be.

Although you never truly know how you look through someone else's eyes, I envision myself as seemingly disheveled. I have always found humor in the fact that my grandmother carries around handfuls of bags wherever she goes (sometimes, she fills bags with more bags, just to have bags in case of emergency). Slowly, I have turned into a bag woman as well. With my job, comes paper work. My bags overflow with papers. On top of that, I like to have other things readily available, so I bring them along with me.

Every time I get in and out of the car, shuffling my belongings is a challenge. I nearly fall out of the car everyday, thrusting my belongings over my shoulders. Like someone who has just fallen, I look around to make sure nobody sees me. This happens everyday! I try to compose myself, but never quiet feel like that is ever accomplished. Part of my problem is that I highly disagree with making multiple trips. If I have 10 bags of things to bring in, I am determined to get them all in all in one trip. This only adds to the mess that is me.

Today, I realized I need to slow down, gain control, and with that, maybe some composure. It came to my attention more than ever today. As I was getting out of my car, three big bags ready to come with me, I went to step out and was pulled right back to the seated position by the seatbelt I had forgotten to unbuckle. This has to be the epitome of bag woman! If only my husband could see me now!