A friend came over to borrow necessary travel items for her impending trip to Rome (Italian phrase book, Euro-acceptable clothes, oversized zippered purse for tourist excursions) as well as items necessary for the black-tie gala where her boyfriend will be accepting an award. When she was looking through my collection of clutch purses, she came across some condoms.

“Molly. What are those doing here?”

They were hiding. An old habit learned from living with my parents for far too long. I didn’t want to admit that they had been there since the last time I had used that purse which was, well, too many months ago. Without listening to my totally rational and justified explanation, she instead gave an impromptu lecture on new-age bullshit.

“Molly, part of the problem is that you’re not thinking proactively. This is practically Feng Sui in nature – we need to right the qi of this environment. Is rummaging through your closet the best way to maintain a mood? You can’t keep sunlight and water away from a seed and expect a plant to grow. Here, let’s put these in your nightstand and grow you a sex life.”

Didn’t mention my doubts on the principle. The handful hidden under the bathroom sink hasn’t given the shower any luck, but hell, what do I know.