The question shouldn’t be “What’s in your wallet?” I get it, it’s a slogan for a credit card. The real question is “What the Hell is in your Purse?” because My purse is a dumping ground for as long as I use that purse. If it is large enough I can use that purse for years and continue to shove shit in it as it’s intended for. I’m surprised by the garbage, literal garbage, I keep in my purse. So here are the contents of my purse today:
3 used tissues, 1 package of unused tissues, a candy bar wrapper (that I found outside in the parking lot and I was all “tsk tsk no littering people”…then I shoved that fucker right in my purse for safe keeping), an empty tin of mints, a million free-flowing mints and mint bits because they spilled, receipts for every grocery I have ever bought EVER, Two Million Four Hundred Thousand Nine hundred and eighty-six dollars and seventy-nine cents of change, lipstick with no cover, clumps of lipstick that has hair stuck in it, a tube of lip gloss that is almost empty, 3 tubes of closed lipstick all similar shades of rose, Chapstick that may have come with the purse, a panty liner in a package that is barely hanging on, my wallet that is neatly organized because that is the true hero in this story, a bookmark, eye drops, my inhaler, eyeglasses from the last prescription in case my new ones don’t work out (still, from about eight months ago), a plane ticket from a trip long past forgotten, eyeglass cleaners, eyeglass wipes (yes they are different things entirely), a hotel room key (could be from the same trip, Probably not), a used Starbucks gift card with a couple of dollars on it that I keep forgetting to use, Earrings (hoops that don’t close all the way anymore), my car keys, sunglasses, bobby pins of various colors and sizes, lotion, and sunscreen (both travel size and definitely NOT from the last trip I took) and my identification card (in case I get stolen or my purse does).
This purse weighs a thousand pounds, could be from all the change, but I will never know because I will probably not clean it out until I find a new purse. Which is a solid lie because I just grab my wallet out and move into the new purse and move on with my life. The only truthful time that I clean my purse is when I want to use it again for something. Then I grab a trash can and pick through the garbage to find “Oh that’s where that necklace went!”
My husband laughed at me when we first married and moved and I found a purse with a wad of cash in it. And by laughing I mean Not Laughing. “Becki, you had that money all this time?”
“I guess so!”
“How long have you had this money?”
“Hmmm? I used that purse before we met. So that’s my money from my paycheck from two jobs ago!”
“You are so careless!”
“I’m fucking magical. I found money, like a God damned leprechaun and you’re going to be all judgey about it? Fine, give me my wad of cash and I will use it for people who appreciate me!”
That was a lucky find. The bag of melted M&M’s was not great to find. They obviously melt in your purse in the trunk of your car as well.
Why does my purse become a dumping ground you ask? BECAUSE I’m busy, BARBARA! I grab and go! GRAB and GO! and eventually I have so many receipts and chauchkies in my purse that I can no longer shove more things in. Then I have to get a new purse. Sometimes I trick myself into thinking I will be different if I had a smaller purse. But that is when I am a fucking liar. I then buy a big purse and I shove my little purse into my big one. That’s better. Little purse! Psshhht, what the fuck was I thinking? I do this at least once a year!
When I had babies it was the diaper bag. Although diaper bags collect way worse things, like empty dirty baby bottles. Fuck me! What smells like HOT Fucking vomit? I mean besides me! Oh that’s it, the baby bottle! That wasn’t my fault, I breast-fed. Where did that bottle even come from? I mean I know where it came from but, you know what, breast-feeding was not accepted in public as it is now. *smirking because I know it’s not accepted now either which is super fucking weird because it’s literally what boobs were designed for.
Why don’t you just clean out your purse? you ask! Because I’m Busy, SUSAN! But you are literally taking time to sit here and label each thing in your purse when you could be cleaning it!
I’m doing this for you, Jennifer! I am letting you know that it is okay to be a little or even a lot disorganized. I am still a good person! Hold my purse and be helpful would ya, Judge Judy?
Moral of my story: My purse is like a junk drawer. I don’t actually have a junk drawer because my husband is exceptionally organized. He has more than one label maker. I use it to write obnoxious labels. He uses it for organizing his life. How did we end up together? I am a magical leprechaun! Also it is okay to be disorganized. I promise that I am not really a train wreck, it’s just that my purse is a mess. It is my personal space and it is a mess. But, I got you, if you need a bobby pin with a bit of lipstick stuck to it! That could come in handy for something, you never know. I am like a lady MacGyver! A Magical Leprechaun Lady MacGyver!!!!
Until Next Time 🙂