I bought myself a new bag last week, and I am so in love with it I might no longer be able to function normally. It has been a long, long time since a new handbag has come into my life, and our relationship is flourishing. Every time I look at it I smile. I walk down the street and think to myself "people must be looking at how awesome my new bag is." You would think that it was alive the way that I protect it from coming into contact with strangers, or God forbid, dirt. It even looks good in Dave's fist when he holds it for me while I am in a public bathroom. What? You thought I was going to bring it in there with me? Have you seen how unsanitary those stalls are? I was in a store the other day, and the woman behind the register commented on how much she liked my bag. She said that it was the same one that she wanted to get. It took all of my willpower not to respond, "of course it is!"
This photo is my artistic interpretation of the way the chemicals in my brain react when I think about how unbelievably fantastic my new bag is. Bliss I tell you, bliss.