The "go to" bag?

24 Aug

Because I just don’t have enough things on the go and need more diversions from my ever diluting concentration span, I’ve been researching “Getting Things Done” a personal efficiency and organisation movement. And by researching, I mean subscribing to a few feeds and not enacting any of the advice.

Over at Lifehacker, they’ve all been showing their “go to” bags, which are ready at a moment’s notice to run out the door with and…well…get things done. They are all very neat and tidy. Too neat. Too tidy.

Here’s mine:In the spirit of “getting things done”, in this case “procrastinating enough so you don’t have to do housework”, all of them are pretty much numbered.

1. the Tardis bag. Not its brand name. Just recognition that any bag that comes into my posession ends up taking on Tardis-esque dimensions. This bag will also expand to fit a lunch, a nappy, several copies of Adbusters, the New Yorker and Jpg and digital slr. The strap is actually an airplane seatbelt. This fact alone rocks my world and, for some reason, is a huge source of distress for the children at childcare. “But WHY do you have a seatbelt on?”

2. Make up bag. Strangely enough, it got used this morning. Not so strangely it didn’t prevent this awful photo being taken of me and the chap who doesn’t get named enjoying a convivial brew (because, like all good parents, I enjoy getting liquored up before picking up my child):

3. Umbrella. Which I don’t use because I actually like walking in the rain. The cover, deftly designed to only fit said umbrella at point of purchase after which it shrinks like a supermodel before Karl Largerfeld, is somewhere else. Possibly in the laundry basket where all good things go to die.

4. A flyer for duct cleaning. No, I am not aware of there being ducts in the Palazzo del Polo Shirt.

5. Various chat transcripts and an article on how to speed read. Because I get bored on the 15 minute train ride. Don’t make me be bored people. Otherwise I will listen in to your conversations.

6. A boarding pass. To Japan. When was I in Japan? April. When is it now? August.

7. A remote control. Yes, it was in my bag, fuck you very much. Just be thankful it wasn’t the cordless phone. Again.

8. Fingerless mittens. These babies rock my world harder than a naked Paul Banks serving me mashed potato. And pens. Which I won’t be able to find when needed.

9. A gift from a coworker from Hong Kong. I’ve still not alerted the Seagull to their presence so they’ve been enjoying a polite conversation with number 10.

10. A brochure on Mummy Tennis. Do I play tennis? Will I ever play tennis? Will the Seagull ever stop grabbing brochures then demand I hold them? All answers point to no.

11. Various bills I will ignore. Then scribble on as the whim strikes. Said scribbling will be so important that it necessitates immediate scribbling. Only to be unceremoniously tossed with a sigh of “what the fuck was I thinking when I wrote that?”

12. A friend’s manuscript I promised to read.

13. Hot pink ankle socks. I know. I didn’t think I was the type either.

14. Tampons. YES, WOMEN CARRY TAMPONS. Though this will never be seen when some lass upends her bags for someone to photograph. Then again, I removed the small Cousin IT gestating in the Tardis. Heavens forfend should you lot discover I malt dark purple red hair everywhere. You’ll look at me funny won’t you? Also featured, keys (but to where? Who knows.) and my train ticket.

15. A hair brush. This never ever gets used as one of my workmates (who continually despairs of my presentation) would realise. And then comment upon. Loudly. But give golf claps when I get all purdy like.

16. A cd mix especially for me. Made a week ago. That I’ve still not listened to. But told the person I did. After that I went and smacked around some orphans.

17. Moleskin of ill repute. There are some exceptionally filthy things in there. And receipts from Japan. (Refer point 6)

18. Random crap from shop receipts to ciggie wrappings to more hair. With bits of tobacco attached. Because when I am rebuilt from dna sourced from this flotsam and jetsam, I want to be nicotine-flavoured and have a record of what I previously bought at the supermarket.

19. Bank statements to show just how cheap my ideals are as I give in and realise I have to supply them if I want to apply for a rental property.

20. More socks. This time the Seagull’s. They’ve been enjoying the view with…

21. A really important piece of red paper with some artfully hieroglyphic scratches on it from the Seagull. Most likely requesting that she would like a real mother in her next life, thank you very much. One that can remember to tape “Bindi the fucking annoying Jungle Girl whose diet consists of solely chewing on scenery” would be preferable.

22. iPod, calmer of souls, barricade to normalcy and internal soundtracker for chubby white chicks who really shouldn’t walk that confidently.

23. Two lighters and an individually wrapped marshmellow. Because the two turntables and a microphone were being bogarted by some tiny scientologist.

24. An application for the single muvva’s pension that I still haven’t filled in after 16 months because I’m so damned busy getting things done.

25. More random crap in the shape of cigarette foils, filter bags and more random fucking ephemera. But one day this shit will help me build a mini-nuclear reactor when I’m inexplicably trapped on some humid island and have a fascist government to overthrow so I can pick up an ol’ war buddy. It just will, ok?

26. Phone. That doesn’t get talked on. Unless I’m drunk. Then you can’t apparently crowbar the useless instructional design from my slurring cheeks.

27. Wallet that is rarely troubled by the presence of money.

28. If you turn up early to work you need this to get in. Last time I turned up early to work: 2006.

29. More lighters. Because apparently I’m always in danger of running out. This may be an issue on the island.

30. Passport. Because my work is so fast paced and unpredictable that I’m often called away on international overthrowing fascist goverments on humid islands and in no way wasting my time on facebook or playing online mah jongg, ok?

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