purse confessions

I got a new purse.

Not necessarily earth shattering news, I know, but it gave me reason to be introspective as I sort and transfer my belongings from the old purse to the new one.

A friend recently blogged about a woman's connection to her bag, so I won't do that here. I'm more fascinated by what my contents may reveal about me. I've been on that theme lately. I've arranged the contents into groups.

So let's see;
as iTunes would say, there are the basics;
wallet, keys, phone, hand lotion,

the next step;
full set of makeup: face, eyes, tweezers, mirror, 4 lip products,
tissues, about 15 pens, pencils, sharpies, notepad,

the deeper cuts;
first aid kit, eye drops, ibuprofen, tums, beano,

and miscellanea;
a stack of business cards promoting about 4 different theatre productions,
a paintbrush? 2 flashlights, a pink pocketknife, a tiny can of Lysol spray,
3 kinds of hand sanitizer, 4 kinds of breath mints and mini toothbrush,
4 pairs of sunglasses, 2 hand-me-down ipods, and a kindle fire.

You'd think there would be various and sundry receipts also, but no, I actually cull them out pretty regularly.

So, what does this list say?
Gone are the days of traveling light. This purse is heavy. I try to be prepared; overly prepared.
There was no hairbrush, so I either don't care what my hair looks like or I have given up. I may not care about my hair, but you won't catch me without mascara and eyeliner. I will admit my addiction to lip balms. I am never without them. It appears that I am twice as afraid of the sunlight as I am of the dark. I'm petrified of having bad breath. Ditto for germs. I am quite attached to my electronics. The medical section gives away my age.

Another confession; I carry another bag that stays in the car with more extras. Things that I have "just in case." That's the autism mom part. I have ear plugs and Mark's anti-nausea wrist bands and car chargers,  a garmin, wipes of various kinds, duplicates of the things listed above. I'm just thankful that I don't have to carry all that on my person at all times anymore, just close at hand. I need to add some duct tape to this bag. Everyone knows that you can survive a zombie apocalypse with gummy worms and duct tape.

You can analyze and come up with your own summation, but mine is this - the world (or whatever) has been unkind to me and somehow by being prepared I think I can one-up or outsmart it; protect myself and those around me. It's an illusion, I know. Trying to outsmart the universe is exhausting when all you have is a purse.