Mama's got a brand new bag

There were things I had to do this week that filled me with so much anticipatory dread that all of last weekend I had dreams of my teeth dissolving inside my head. (That's my go-to anxiety dream - another is that I fall down the stairs and knock out all of my teeth. Toothlessness is obviously a big thing for me.) 

On Monday morning, The Dread was terrible. I felt as though I had to gird my loins to face the day, so I unearthed something pretty, slapped on my new lippy, and hurdled down the street in mile-high heels. 

Then I sat in my office, muttered to myself for a while, paced, and then proceeded to do the scary, dread-inducing things. I did them on Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday. On Friday I was astonished that I hadn't died of fear or thrown up in my hands, but had, in fact, taken care of business and kicked ass.

I left the office feeling triumphant. There is nothing like slaying a few dragons to make a girl feel powerful and fearless.

That's where the bag comes in.

The part of me that embraces Calvinist rigor believes that the reward for good work is the pleasure of knowing that you've accomplished something to your satisfaction. The other part of me - the one with marshmallow filling - got her ass down to Kate Spade RIGHT QUICK.

Look, they were having a sale.  And I own one (extremely budget) handbag. ONE. And it's green. "I am a grown-up," I told myself, as I handed over my card. "I have a grown-up job and I work hard. It's OK to do this." So I bought a dainty black patent leather number with gold chain straps and beat it out of there before the Puritanical voices inside my head could gasp in horror. (At least I hadn't absconded with the hot pink version of the bag, which I eyed lovingly for about fifteen minutes before backing slowly away.)

It turns out that it's fun to buy something nice when you've done yourself proud. I sat on the subway and grinned. I felt not an ounce of guilt. Because inside the paper carrier holding the precious bag were the words:

HAVE COURAGE

A sign. The bag and I were meant to be.

Animated gif via lapoor.