Tote that barge

I’ve been a little stressed out lately.

The only way I can think to describe it is this: sometimes, when I come out to the parking lot from the grocery store I’ve got too much in my hands. Jack and I like the little truck carts– but they aren’t supposed to go outside of the store. It’s the drawback to letting him happily “drive” through our grocery errands… when we leave the store I have to juggle all the bags and bundles. So, in the parking lot, I’ll find that, in one hand, I’ve got Jack’s little hand and in the other I’ve got all the bags/milk jugs and over both shoulders there is usually a few more bags. There’s always a moment in the parkinglot when I question the wisdom of this procedure. Obviously Jack’s little hand is moot– I wouldn’t let go of that for anything… but I start regretting picking up the extra things that now have my shoulders aching and my fingers turning purpley. I don’t want to drop any of the bags– something will get cracked or bruised or dented– or spilled… but the car always seems too far away.

Lately life feels a little like that. Not all of the little bundles and burdens are mine– some I probably shouldn’t carry at all but it’s just what happens.

At least I use recycled bags. I’ll take some comfort in that.