Handbag Math

The few guys who read this may just want to leave the room now. No, I'm not going to be talking about anything embarrassing like tampons or such; but I'm willing to bet that you could care less about handbags. Go check out The Clay Pigeon - Grundir the Implacable is dispensing work life advice, and there's the scariest bunch of trash-talkin' math wizards you could ever hope to meet. You can come on back for the last 2 paragraphs, where I discuss the mean trick my husband played on me this morning.

Anyway, gals, I went to Target tonight for some Vagisil (ha, ha, just kidding, just wanted to get rid of those interfering men) and I spotted a new handbag. It sort of leapt out at me and asked me to hold it and check out its cellphone pocket (isn't this the first thing you do with purses now, look for where the cellphone goes?). It's fun, it's flirty; in other words, it's totally not me. So I was trying to decide whether or not to take a big leap of faith and buy it and pretend to be fun and flirty. I mean, this isn't just a handbag, it's a statement, right? It's saying that I am not going gently into the dowdiness of middle age; this handbag can let the world know that a few wrinkles doth not an old hag make.

[By the way, Larry wonders why it takes me hours to come out of Target. It's because all these philosophical questions arise. They are very time-consuming.]

Where was I? Oh, yes...at that point I thought, hey, why am I agonizing over this decision? The purse cost 17 dollars. The handbag I bought 2 years ago (2 whole years ago!) was also 17 dollars. At that rate, I cost my husband only $8.50 (plus tax) in handbags a year. You know, there's frugal (which I am, believe it or not), and then there's just plain stupid.

So I bought 6.

No, no, no, I just felt like typing that. But it occurred to me that my husband doesn't understand how expensive handbag-acquisition habits can be, because he has been spoiled all these years by his undemanding wife. I'm totally on board for (with?) keeping to our budget and saving for our retirement; but I need him to realize that things could be much worse, wife-spending-wise, you know what I mean? What's the use of unappreciated sacrifice, anyway?

So whaddaya think? Should I buy lots of stuff at once and bring it home and then say, loudly, "But no, that would be wrong!" and then return all of it (except the handbag, of course). Or is there an easier way to get my point across?

Okay, guys, come back in. Sometimes we just need a little girl talk, you know? Anyway, Larry made sure this morning that I would never, ever bother him at work again. So you menfolks may just want to take notes on this. You see, he asked me for our dentist's phone number so he could confirm a dental appointment for later this week, and I asked him to get me a make-up appointment for a cleaning while he was on the phone with them. He sounded a little annoyed and rushed when I asked, but tough.

So, yeah, he got me the appointment. For 7:30 AM. By my calculations, that means I have to be up, showered, and dressed by 7:15. (I'm spoiled, all right? I haven't managed that all winter.) Think I'll ever ask him to schedule anything for me again? I don't think so. He's diabolically clever, he is.