Turning Into an Old Bag

[Peg Herring]

It's not me, I swear! In my former life, when I taught English, history, and speech, headed up the yearbook staff and the drama department, and directed three choirs, I learned to compartmentalize. I had a bag for each activity, so I could grab it and go when the time came to shift gears. People used to call me the Bag Lady, because I never entered the building unencumbered by a bag or four.

I haven't changed much. I still have a multitude of tote bags, each with a specific purpose. My Sisters in Crime bag contains stuff for book signings: pens, bookmarks, signage (what a goofy word!) and business cards. My Malice Domestic bag holds the things I need for my mystery talk. A tote I bought in England has the info for a historical novel talk. A classy leather bag contains my workshop for writers, and a bag with little hearts all over it is, of course, full of info on romances. I still have two choirs, so there are bags for each of those as well, and I'm now president of the recently-formed alumni association in my hometown, so there's a bag for that. And I do paperwork for an elderly relative who can no longer handle it, so I got a bag for her stuff, to make it convenient to have her bills and receipts handy when I visit.

So what does my office look like? Bag Central Station. But you can call me up at any time and say, "Can you talk about ----?" I'll grab the proper bag and be ready to go. A dozen bags, no waiting.