Bag Karma

For the next 21 days, I will be back and forth from Middletown a considerable amount because my parents are enjoying the world (well actually Sri Lanka and India. But come on, lucky lucky lucky). I promised them that on the weekends I'd stop in and check on the house and hangout with cats. In our crazy animal-owning minds, our cats will feel abandoned and run away to find new families. Seriously. I got panicked thinking of our cat Thorsten being devastated thinking we left him, being forced back on the streets.

So today was just like any other day walking to work except for one thing: I was the ultimate bag lady. Not the stylish traveler with the matching luggage and sleek bags. Oh no no, not me. I looked like a random homeless person with her plastic Macy's bag filled to the cusp of random stuff, a blue and white beach bag, my usual work bag, and a dress that I picked up from the dry cleaners on the way. I'm going to a wedding on Saturday and the dress I wanted to wear I also wore on New Year's Eve. I took a peek at it earlier this week to see if it needed a washing and so it appears that there was ketchup all over the front.... I'm guessing from my snack I made myself at the end of the night. Class act over here, awesome.

So I started my trek to the bus and later Port Authority and I was a disaster. I was literally falling all over the place, dropping my bags, the dry cleaning blowing in the breeze and to my horror, realized that the beach bag, which was filled with laundry, had a bra on the top, peeking out for all the world to see.

So the karma of it all you ask? I generally hate all people who have more than one bag and walk all drunkenly-discombobulated, which is what I was today. OF COURSE I was stuck behind the old man with a limp or maybe fake leg the entire walk to work. Why not? And it wasn't even like I could get around him to gracefully maneuver a la frogger thru the crowds. Hence, now my shoulders hurt and I dread the trip back to Mtown.