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It is my firm belief that a young, urban professional’s briefcase is his lifeline. I’d be lost without mine. It carries my laptop, my iPad, all my chargers, my notebook, pens, and business cards–basically everything I need to make it through a workday, except for coffee. I actually got mine as a Christmas gift, and it’s a beautiful, brown, leather briefcase with a main compartment, a flap, and a shoulder strap for the airport. As soon as I got it, I neatly put in my laptop, charger, and all my other work essentials. Everything was nice, neat, and compact. At first. But this is an item I use every day for work, and as time went on, I noticed it becoming less of a briefcase and more of a glorified purse.
It started very subtly, as I threw a pack of gum and my checkbook in there so I could pay bills after work. It wasn’t long before allergy season came around that I had to toss in Claritin. Since I put Claritin in there, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to add some multivitamins to the mix. Then I started thinking about what other essentials I needed for work and business trips, so I put my passport in the dedicated passport pocket, some spare collar stays, and even lip balm, just in case.
Then I adopted a written day planner, because iCal was pissing me off, and I threw that in there, too. All my receipts from paying my bills found a home in there somehow. Then I decided to make a copy of my conceal carry permit and toss it in there with an extra magazine, because why not?
Everything seemed innocent enough, but little did I know my briefcase was gradually becoming my purse. I started putting receipts, change, and cash in there for picking up breakfast and coffee on the way into work so I wouldn’t have to take out my wallet. Sometimes I put my wallet in there with my phone for convenience, like for when I’m sitting in the car. I even tossed a condom or two in there because, you know, happy hour.
It came to a point where my briefcase began to become cluttered with things I needed, didn’t need, could have carried in my pocket, or could have left at the office. That’s when it hit me–my briefcase reminded me a lot of my mom’s purse. If I needed a special document to go somewhere after work, I stuffed it in my briefcase. I was a tampon short of my briefcase becoming an actual purse. I didn’t understand why I needed all this shit. I was hoarding crap, and so I made it a personal mission to start cleaning out my briefcase every week or every other week to make sure that it stayed a briefcase–and especially so that I would never have to experience the emasculation of having a purse. This seemed like an appropriate solution until I realized that women habitually clean out their purses for the same reason, too. Shit.
You had me at conceal carry permit and an extra magazine.
There’s no shame in being prepared for whatever the world throws at you.
Well written article. I’m the same way with my gym bag
Indiana Jones carries one
*satchel
Touché
I don’t want to admit it, but here it goes. I put a tooth brush, toothpaste, travel shaving cream and a razor in my briefcase this morning.
Every man has been here (read: is still here). I find things in mine from a year ago that i thought I had lost. It’s like finding a great lost treasure and immediately vindicates my hoarding ways. Until I lose it again. Shit.