I have accomplished my purpose in life.
I have, since I knew I needed a place to store my (empty) wallet, chapstick and the occasional tampon, been on the search for The Perfect Purse. It's been a long, grueling process. Full of empty promises, mediocre selections and the poor man's perfect purse.
I reached the point where, in my closet, I had about 31 purses. One for every day of the month, but not one was It. But people, I have found It. I've had my eye on this prize for, well, ever. But quite frankly, dropping as much on one purse as I could spend on one month's worth of car insurance, plus last month's cell phone bill, a month's worth of gas and a cute, new shirt made me want to gouge the right eye from my skull.
But I did it anyway. And I still have both my eyes. It was my birthday. I had money. And I have absolutely no other excuse for this completely off-the-wall purchase, but dang I'm happy. And it is beautiful. And I could weep with glee. But I won't.