Okay my first clue that I was a lesbian should have been my dogged refusal to carry a purse. When I was growing up I stuffed my license, money, keys, etc into whatever pants I was wearing. If a pair of pants didn’t have pockets, I wouldn’t buy them.
My mother tried, bless her heart, to get me to carry a purse because that’s what women did.
Now I’m all grown up (55 years old to be exact) and mom you win, I’m carrying my version of a purse. Needless to say she is probably rolling in her grave right now.
After two and a half years at my current job, my staff finally feel comfortable enough to razz the boss about the backpack I drag to and from work each day. I use this “purse” to carry my iPad, lunch, wallet, work papers, etc. So after a few months the strap started falling apart. Well…in my little pea brain duct tape fixes everything so of course I ducked taped the strap and it worked. Voila no more escape artist padding.
Now it’s not like I can’t afford a new backpack, it’s just not important enough to brave the mall and go shopping. Have I ever mentioned I hate shopping – all those crowds get to me.
My HR Assistant snickers the other day and tells me, “I’ve been looking for the perfect patterned duct tape for you.”
I’m afraid of what she’s thinking is the perfect pattern for me.
The rest of my staff chime in ribbing me here and there. After all they were the ones to notice my two left shoes.
The rest of my senior leadership team don’t even know where to begin with me as I drag my backpack to our weekly meetings. I guess I’m a bit of an oddball to them because I refuse to bend to the pressure of being a fashion do versus a fashion don’t. I’m all about utility and my backpack serves me just fine.
I suppose I will never become the CEO of our healthcare system with my choice of fashion accessories, but maybe that’s the point because I would never want his job…
If anyone thinks there’s a better more versatile way to drag your shit around, by all means tell me, until then I’m not giving up my best friend.