Let’s see, my purse contains things now that I most certainly did not need in my twenties—like my fan. When I get a hot flash, I have to have a fan. I have to have a fan IMMEDIATELY! Otherwise, I go into panic mode, stomping my feet, feeling skin-crawling anxiety with mood-changing hysteria until I have an apparatus that will create a mighty wind in my face. I’d lift my blouse, but if I’m in public that would just be too much information.
As I would in my twenties, I do have a compact mirror in my purse, but the one I have contains a MAGNIFYING component so that I can actually see my twelve eyelashes. Not that I carry mascara in my purse. Middle-aged women just leave that at home next to the GIGANTIC magnifying mirror in the bathroom, and if we miss an eyelash at home, well, it’s no big whup, because we have plenty more things to worry about after leaving the house, like where we might have left our car keys.
Of course I carry a small pill box as well in my purse. It contains three valiums in case I do have a panic attack when I can’t find my fan, four Tums for immediate consumption after a good Chinese or Italian meal out ... and twelve Ibuprofen because, well, you just never know when your head will explode, especially after dealing with a teenager driving in front of you who is texting while applying her mascara in the rearview mirror.
And, last but not least, I have seventeen pens in my purse because you should NEVER use the pen they give you at the pharmacy to sign anything ... just THINK of how many terminally and contagiously sick people pick up that pen. Same deal at the grocery store ... with the “stylus” thingy. Just use the back of your pen instead. It doesn’t leave ink on the screen, but accomplishes a successful “cash-back/YES” component.
I have eighty-five other things in my purse, but we don’t have enough time here. Just know that my middle-aged purse is as large as my middle-aged BUTT!
In my purse I carry a GPS device that I can plug into my car-lighter socket. It tells my dyslexic mind how to get from here to there. Even better and most importantly, how to get back. That’s the hardest part for us because everything is the opposite from how you got there. Last night a robber broke my car window and stole my GPS mount off of the inside of the windshield and the charger out of the lighter socket. They didn’t get the GPS because I keep it in my purse just in case some stupid idiot breaks into my car to get it. I say “stupid idiot” with total confidence because my car wasn’t locked! Asshole dodoheads.
I keep a bag of nuts in my purse because I have low blood sugar at times, which causes me to monsterize people if I am in need of protein. A hard boiled egg would do the trick better but it’s not a good idea to carry one of those in your purse. You might forget about it and then two days later your purse and everything in it would smell like a dead possum. You may wonder how I know this.
I have toothpicks for after-popcorn at the movies, a cell phone so I can see what time it is, and matches for in case I get stuck in a dark cave like Indian Joe the half-breed in Tom Sawyer. I was traumatized by that. You’ve got to be prepared for anything and that’s what purses are for!
I also have seventeen pens in my purse because I’m a pen-klepto. But not on purpose. I guess I have a tendency to sign my name on a charge receipt and then absentmindedly toss the pen into my purse. I have a pen shaped like a bourbon bottle with ‘Steve’s Liquors’ on it and one that has a hula dancer whose coconut bra comes off and reveals an ample bosom when the pen is used. I can’t remember where I got that one but I strongly suspect it was when I got my car window fixed at “Bubba’s Car Wash, Glass Fixers and Taco Stand.”
I have three one-dollar bills and a lotto ticket in the side pocket of my purse. There is also breath gum, five lipsticks, and a paperback book on how to clear the chi in your purse.
Photo courtesy of The MidLife Gals