This one is a little lighter than my usual budget posts. A reader emailed after my daycare math post and asked what a workday actually looks like for me, and specifically, what I bring. It's a fair question. I carry the same big canvas tote to the office every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and it has become a small, slightly chaotic survival kit.
So I dumped it out on the bed last night while Dan watched with mild concern. Here's everything that was in there, more or less in the order it came out.
The bag itself
A plain black canvas tote with a zip top and one inside pocket. It was about $30 and it's on its second year. I tried a backpack for a while and hated how my scrubs bunched up under the straps. The zip top matters, because at least twice a toddler has "helped" me pack by putting a toy in it, and I'd rather find out at home than at the office.
Work essentials
The practice supplies most of what I actually use chairside: gloves, masks, instruments, all of it. But there are a few things I bring myself.
- My loupes in their hard case. These are the magnifying glasses hygienists wear. They were the most expensive thing I bought in school and I treat them like a newborn.
- A spare set of scrubs. Rolled tight in a gallon zip bag. Needed maybe once a month, but when you need it, you really need it.
- Compression socks. I'm on my feet or leaning over a chair for most of an eight-hour day. I change into these at the office. My calves thank me.
- A small hair kit. Clips, elastics, and a few bobby pins. Everything has to be up and out of the way.
- Hand cream. Washing and gloving dozens of times a day wrecks your skin. I keep a tube in the bag and one at my station.
Food, because I will not survive otherwise
Lunch is almost always leftovers from Sunday meal prep, packed in a glass container. This week it was lentil sloppy joe filling over rice, which looks unappetizing in the break room but tastes great. I also pack:
- A big insulated water bottle. I refill it twice.
- Two snacks: usually a cheese stick and a handful of almonds, or an apple and peanut butter.
- A granola bar for the drive home, because if I walk in the door starving at 5:30, I will eat the twins' dinner off their plates.
I stopped buying lunch out about a year ago when I added it up in the spreadsheet. Even a modest $12 lunch three times a week comes to over $150 a month. That's a whole utility bill.
The mom stuff
This is the part Dan found funny. Even though the twins aren't with me, my bag still has evidence of them everywhere:
- Three pacifier clips, no pacifiers. I have no idea why.
- A pouch of applesauce, probably from last Tuesday.
- A tiny board book about farm animals. Theo put it in there. I've left it on purpose now. It makes me smile at lunch.
- A pack of wipes. Honestly useful anywhere. Coffee spills, sticky steering wheel, mystery hand.
- June's spare hair bow, which she refuses to wear but I refuse to give up on.
The small comforts
A few things that make a long day feel a bit more human:
- Earbuds. My 25-minute commute is the only time all week I get to listen to something that isn't a children's song. I've been working through an audiobook for about two months. I'm on chapter nine.
- Lip balm and a mini deodorant. Self-explanatory.
- A little notebook. For grocery lists, blog ideas, and the occasional thing a patient says that makes me laugh (no names, ever).
- Phone charger. Daycare texts, and I need to be reachable.
What I took out
Going through it, I found a few things that don't need to live there anymore: a crumpled receipt from December, an expired coupon, a single mitten from winter, and two dried-up pens. The bag is lighter now. I'd like to say I'll keep it this tidy. We both know I won't.
If you're heading back to work after a baby and wondering what you'll need, my honest answer is: food, water, comfortable feet, and something small that reminds you why you're doing it. Mine is a board book about cows.
