Much like me, my wallet is a bit "fluffy". It needs to be trimmed down. It's full of other people's business cards, most of which I never look at. A few of those "rewards" cards that seem to be so popular these days. A couple of coffee cards, a Costco card, library card, gift cards (one to a book store, one to a spa), medical insurance card, my Sarah Palin look-alike driver's license (not really!), three photos of my husband and one of each of our kids (none of the photos are recent). From these items one might infer that I have a family (true, although they're older than one might expect, based on the dated photos), have a particular fondness for my husband (that would be correct), that I like to indulge myself (who doesn't?), enjoy reading (love it!), and never pass up a chance for that free latte. The abundance of business cards might indicate that I like to have ready access to resources, which is true, even though I rarely refer to them- but it's nice to know they'll be there when I need them.
From looking at the contents of my wallet, one would never know that I love cooking, gardening, and animals; or that I tend to procrastinate (well, perhaps my overloaded wallet might speak to that, after all).
But perhaps the one item in my wallet that best speaks to my identity is a tattered piece of paper I've carried around for years that says:
Every man's work, whether it be literature, or music or pictures, or architecture, or anything else, is always a portrait of himself.
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