little plastic bags (& little chocolate donuts).

presently, if i had to come up with one object to symbolize the life that i--and as far as i can tell most of my friends--lead, it's little plastic bags. they're usually black. we all have roughly 300 of them, stuffed into each other infinitely--like some kind of plastic bag black hole--under our sinks.
why do we have so many little plastic bags? ("I logged a lot of miles training for that day. And I downed a lot of doughnuts.") because it is a symptom of our lifestyles as twenty-somethings in nyc. generally, we don't buy 'household groceries' that would require large plastic bags; we buy foods piecemeal, usually literally for the next meal. and we get these ad hoc foods from corner grocers, who put everything in, of course, little plastic bags (usually black).
what else do we buy a ton of? beer. six packs, cases, random deuce-deuces and even forties. and what does this beer come in? little plastic bags.
and with all the ad hoc food buying, and beer drinking, and purchasing of random goods like toiletries, and other small objects, the plastic bags start piling up.
i look at these little plastic bags as a symbol because the purchasing habits they stem from are wholly indicative of people who are at a transitional point in their lives. few things are long-term right now; most endeavors are day-to-day, week-to-week. we consume a thing quickly and move on to the next. we are feeling our "real lives" out, beginning to discern for ourselves the things we might want have permanent places in our lives. when we have a firmer handle on those things, we'll want to settle down, and we'll need bigger plastic bags for all the permanent acoutrements that surround you when you're settled. but for now, while we're on the road to committing to things, we need small bags for small rations which won't weigh us down while we're in motion. and beer accompanies us along the way.
little plastic bags. think about it. i have apparently.