I have many pockets
so.... my pockets.
I am made up of so so many pockets, as we all are..
I have pockets for my phone, my keys, my masks.
Pockets for gum and change - remember change? No? Just me?
I have pockets in my jeans and in my running pants - but not in my suits (that's a whoooole other post about fashion. And why don't women have pockets in work attire? but i digress).
I have metaphorical pockets - room left in my appetite after dinner?
Words in my mind to write this post? Encyclopedia pocket.
My memories are in pockets big and small...like how my mom's voice sounded. And the feel of her hand in mine.
I carry the sound of my friend cheerfully singing off-key with the wrong words as we wound through the Italian countryside...it's in my friend pocket.
And the sound of my dad clearing his throat before speaking on that phone message recording..that's in the rueful chuckle pocket.
that one boss in a former life...I carry the memory of a stinging conversation that led to my ouster - and now those words still carry me through tough situations in the "I'll show you" section of my determination pocket.
(apparently, she's also living rent-free in my hold-over anger pocket...may be time to slash a hole in that one.
the pocket, not the boss.
I guess this post is really more of a tote bag-sized pocket, spilling over with inspiration for Pocket Lulu.
Thanks for taking a peek in here - hope you stick with me!
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