In Its Pocketses

I read something today asking what the strangest thing in your purse is right now. I realized it’s been literally three years or so since I touched my purse, so I decided to go through it and explore what’s in there. In the interest of science. Or something. Anyway, here is the report.

As a side note, apparently my purse is currently living underneath the little table in our guest room. I don’t know why it’s under the little table in the guest room, but in the interest of logical organization, it is accompanied by some important documents, several empty cardboard boxes, and a carton of electrolyte drink mix. I assume the purse was sitting somewhere inconvenient three years ago and got shoved in there “temporarily,” since the guest room tends to be a convenient place for shoving things. Except guests.

Contents of Curiosity’s Purse:

1) Lip balm (which has similar cousins in pretty much all of my belongings that could hold one), and also a tinted lip gloss, for if I was feeling fancy.

2) Hair clip I’ve been looking for for over three years now and was starting to believe had been either a figment of my imagination or involved in some unexpectedly traumatic hair-clip-violence that I’ve since blocked out.

3) A scrunchie that I’m reasonably sure I’ve never actually worn in public. And yes, the 1980′s called me, and they’d like their hair products back. They used a land line. …Except they just called it a “phone.”

4) Go Train schedule printed out in font so small as to be almost unreadable, in case I wanted to know what the Go Train schedule would look like if read from a very great distance.

5) Small package of Kleenex that I’m reasonably certain I can’t make interesting.

6) Hand sanitizer, from the period of time that I was getting sick every time somebody so much as made eye contact with me. …Also, that sentence makes “eye contact” sound WAY more disgustingly tactile than I intended it. Seriously, though, letting people rub their eyes on you probably is a good way to get sick.

7) Brand of feminine products I switched from years ago.

8 ) Not one, but two photos of my own face. I’m pretty certain these were for my hairdresser to show her a cut I was really happy with. Let’s assume. Alternately, I can hold them up all official like and say “HAVE YOU SEEN THIS WOMAN?” and confuse the hell out of people.

9) One small Ziploc bag of very desiccated almonds, not all of which remained in their confines. I put them back in the purse after investigating. Live on, almonds.

10) One large dried fruit snack bar.

11) Several small dried fruit snack bars.

12) Additional small dried fruit snack bars.

13) Who needs this many dried fruit snack bars??? Was I portaging??

14) Crumpled grocery list that included items like “millet” and “amaranth,” neither of which I would purchase now. This was from the “tackle my poor digestion” era where I was trying to identify food allergies/sensitivities, and I don’t need them now since I’ve got a pretty good handle of what works and doesn’t work for me, and the factors that aren’t actually related to food. Also, amaranth tastes like dirt. So there’s that.

15) One 8.5 x 11 inch piece of white paper in my husband’s handwriting with the words “To Whom It May Concern” scrawled in large letters across one side, and “I love you” on the other. I’m positive there was a story to this, and cannot for the life of me remember what it was.

16) The receipt for my beloved cat Morning’s emergency vet visit and euthanasia Ouch.  That was…an unexpected find. Dear, sweet boy. I still think of you all the time.

17) One bottle of Gravol, and a small plastic case with brand new ear plugs in it. I really don’t know what that was about. Sounds fun.

18) One small container of my favourite grapefruit lotion that I can’t use anymore without my nose stuffing up like crazy. There should be laws against new allergies developing later in life. It’s like they hold off just long enough to confirm what your favourites are.

19) I’m pretty sure I just used “later in life” in reference to myself, like a mature person. HA ha ha ha ha ha ha HA ha ha. …Although to be fair, those two pictures of my face mentioned above were not taken with a cell phone. Touche, self. Touche.

20) Coupon for $10 off shoes that really I knew I was never going to use when I put it in there in the first place, but stuck in anyway (in case of shoe emergency, I guess. Shoe emergency and limited funds). It expired in 2010.

21) Various receipts and scraps of paper, including one enigmatic Chapters receipt with “3pm Cost of borrowing $2000″ written on it. This was in my writing and seems oddly suggestive of loan sharking activity that I’m reasonably sure I’ve never been involved in. I have no idea what this was (and also plausible deniability about any broken kneecaps involved).

22) Assorted lint.

23) Contact and hotel information from that weekend in Montreal that I took when I was free of the antidepressants but didn’t know what M.E. was yet, and was just confused about why I was so crushingly exhausted and unwell and incapable of getting anything done in the days following. And also why I had so much fun if my problem was supposed to be depression.  This was also a time when I thought I would continue to just get better, which is bittersweet.

So there you go. The contents of my life several years ago. There was also a pencil and notepaper involved, but I think I scavenged that pretty early on. It’s always the most valuable things that get pinched first.

It was kind of weird going through it all. I forget sometimes that people use purses. I’m determined to get well enough that someday it becomes practical for me to need to carry one around again, but it’s so foreign now that I think I’m going to feel like I’m playing dress-up.

It’s okay, though. …I’ve got a scrunchie.

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5 Responses to “In Its Pocketses”

  1. I suffer from a nasty bit of depression and I just wanted to say, reading these – puts a smile on my face from time to time. I am being medicated now but, still have that rattle of sadness in the back of my head. Sad thing is, the only good thing I have going for me is my Art. Can’t keep a job due to the panic attacks I have an can’t go out and have a good time in fear of it.
    I just wanted to say thank you for the light in this dark life.


  2. Curiosity says:

    Thanks so much for letting me know. That’s a lovely sentiment. I wish you all the best. I really do.

    I hope WordPress doesn’t eat your comment. :) It’s been erasing my most recent ones lately. I hate losing lovely things like this.

  3. I miss you. How are you? Thinking of you. X

  4. Still wondering how you are. Miss your voice. Hope you’re hanging in there!

  5. Curiosity says:

    Hi Elizabeth! Sorry I missed your previous comment. I’m hanging in. Started antivirals and am riding out a bit of a dip right now, but hanging in.

    I forced myself a while back to take an objective look at the resources that trying to interact online were draining from me, and made a call to step away from it for a while if I didn’t truly feel up to it. I did the same thing with a few other areas of my life and places where I was chronically overdoing it in low-grade ways, or consistently going way overboard (visits from friends, etc.). It’s been a bit heart-breaking, since I’m even more isolated now than I was before, but I have to admit that my recovery speed did increase having cut that stuff out.

    I was looking SO hard for any possible solution. But I realized that in some ways I had been ignoring the places I already know could help me. I guess I just discounted how much of a difference that could possibly make, even though I had plenty of evidence to know it could.

    I miss writing here, though, and keeping up with the connections I made here. I do peek in on you now and then, and wish you all the best often. We have so much in common, and I can see so very much of myself in your story. Hang in there yourself. We’ll make it through this to some other side where things are…better.

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