Too Much Stuff

As evidenced by my blog title, I work part time. I am lucky enough to have a position that allows me to work 24 hours per week. It's a great gig and I love my position. You would think that having kids, I would have grown a thick skin because almost every request I make of them is instantly met with the word "no". Apparently this is not so because inevitably I still come across the occasional person who in one little sentence can send my day into a downward spiral.

This instance was last week when I was on my way into the office building from the garage underneath. I was walking in with my laptop, jacket over my arm and my pocketbook. We have a key card that grants us access to the building and typically just a quick wave in front of the device will open the door. Knowing that the card was somewhere in my bag and that just a simple wave of my pocketbook in the correct place would open the door, I did a little dance and tried to open the door on the wrong side of my pocketbook apparently. I did eventually get the door to open and managed to get myself inside the building to the elevator where a man was holding the door open for me. I rushed in with all of my items over my arms, etc. and the man inside looked at me in disgust and told me I had too much stuff. If it had been said in jest or with a smile I might have come up with an equally funny retort. Instead I was left to seeth about how he didn't know what I had in my bags and why I had that stuff and thank God I wasn't nursing anymore so that there were no pumps of any sort because I would have gladly explained that to him.