Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Missing handbag

I'm rushing to catch a lift to take me to a friend's apartment for dinner. Other people all get into the lift but I don't and it starts to shut.

I stick my handbag (really?) into the door and it opens again only to have other people get in, including my beloved husband (pause to wonder how in the world he managed to get into the lift without me seeing him) but his back is turned to me.

I stick my handbag (it's this big white thing and seriously, I would never buy a white handbag) into the door again except this time instead of dinging open the door shuts and takes my handbag with it as it rides up the floors.

Now I'm seriously freaked out that my handbag has run off without me and I'm without it and also not on the lift getting to my friend's apartment.

I then run out onto the street and hail a cab because the next lift that will take me to the apartment is about 500 metres down the street. (It's about now that reality starts to sink in and I sort of realise that I'm dreaming).

So, I'm in the taxi and I'm rummaging through my handbag (hello! second handbag? where in the world did that come from?) and I find out that the only thing I'm missing from my other handbag is my phone (oh no! my life is on that thing - fortunately it's all backed up at home) and a few pieces of paper and my (paper) notebook.

I also discover while in the taxi that my hair has all turned prematurely white?

Don't ask me where that second handbag came from - it's a dream, remember? The fortunate thing is now I have money to pay the taxi to chase this horizontal lift that has my white handbag and make my way to my friend's apartment.

I get out of the taxi and pay the guy. Dash off towards the lifts and head over to the building's management office to ask if anyone has turned in any lost, large white handbags.

Oh, there are handbags alright. Lots and lots of handbags. You would be shocked at how many lost handbags show up and so many of them white. However, none of them are mine. These are small, large, long, square, rectangular, but not mine. Mine was sort of long and curvy on the bottom.

I start going through all the handbags and now I have a friend with me? (Not the one I'm supposed to be visiting) and she's helping me look for my handbag.

We go from the management office of the building to the finance office of the building to where we find there is some kind of bake sale going on. My friend starts going through the baked goods (I'm salivating but still focused on finding my handbag) and she decides to buy something. She finds out the baked goods are on sale because it's the end of the day and since I'm pretty hungry at that point, I decide to get a cake.

I reach into my (new?) handbag to pay and discover that I am only holding broken straps of the handbag because somehow the straps have been cut my after a moment of panic I find the handbag sitting on the floor. I'm rather confused at this point and I stand there looking at the cut straps and the handbag - cakes forgotten.

At this point, some nice helpful building employee comes up to me and offers to help me find my missing handbag. Clutching the broken one, I follow him and he retrieves and rather nice white handbag (what looks like a Louis Vuitton - even my dreams are branded) and after looking at it for a while, I ask if there is a brown one like it.

He takes me into a room that looks like a handbag warehouse (still at the bottom of my friend's apartment building, remember?) and starts looking for the handbag in question. I think by this time, I've given up on finding my original handbag.

Somehow, my friend joins him in the search and I realise that I've left my broken handbag behind at the bake sale and I turn back to retrieve it only to discover the husband has come back down to look for me and he's talking to my friend through a phone while he's standing next to her?

I can hear him loud as can be saying "now what's she gotten herself into this time?" (Thanks for the vote of confidence, honey!)

So, instead of getting found by the boy, I crawl out behind him to head back over to where the bake sale was to retrieve my broken handbag.

About this time, I also decide that the dream has gone on long enough and all this silliness needs to stop, so I wake myself up.

The end.


  1. I experienced something like that before. I was rushing to catch the train when my bag was left hanging outside when the door of the train closed.

  2. I don't think I do it often in real life. Even reading it again, it was a strange dream.

  3. Im not a big fan of white colored handbags as well. One reason is its usually easier for it to get dirty especially for someone like me who is very active and always running around.

  4. I don't usually do anything white at all. Like you said too easy to get dirty. Even with clothes and furniture, I stay away from white.