Wednesday, March 10, 2010

I took the opportunity to clean out my purse while waiting in the car for my girl to be done with school.

Papers. So many little stubs of paper. Receipts. Slips. Notes. Lists. I stashed them inside a Ziploc bag - holding two smooshed oreos.

I came across a little metal coil. A remnant from a pen that I remember tossing the last time I purged the purse. I opened the little baggie to add it to the paper trash, when a thought crossed my mind.

Might I ever need this little metal coil?

You know, what if the engine stalled and this small piece of aluminum (or whatever) could fix it? No. That doesn't happen in real life. I am never in an episode of Macgyver.

But I sure used to watch that show A LOT when I was younger. Isn't it funny how deeply impacted we are by such things?

I read a post here about how soap operas have impacted the "Redeemed Diva's" thinking. (She's a hoot!)

Anyhow, I threw out that coil. I hope I never happen upon a bomb squad trying to diffuse a bomb. It could have come in handy.

3 comments:

emily said...

Just today, I was thinking about how I must have some type of disease. Must. Keep. Everything. I'm wondering if there is a pill for that.

I always love stopping in over here. Your voice sounds so familiar and comfortable. (And I'm guessing that baby sister of yours had her baby....right?!)

redeemed diva said...

By day it was the soap opera dramas and by Monday nights it was Macgyver. I still think about what my exit plan will be if ever faced with the dilemma of being dropped into a vat of acid.

Brambleberry said...

Thanks, Emily. I am visiting my baby sister right now. What a sweet peanut!

Holly, it is imperitive to have an acid exit strategy. :)