They say you can tell everything about a woman by what she carries in her purse. If that’s true, then I’m equal parts hoarder, survivalist, and walking CVS.

Here’s what I found on my last archaeological dig through my purse:

• Receipts – Enough paper to reforest the Amazon if appropriately recycled. Or to write my memoirs if I get stranded on a desert island. Some are so old they might qualify as ancient scrolls.

• Three ChapSticks – Each a different shade and all missing their caps.

• Loose Change – $3.72 in nickels, dimes, quarters, and pennies that weigh as much as a small bowling ball. Plus a Canadian coin that I have no idea where it came from. The last time I was in Canada was in 2015.

• Unidentified Wrapper – The sticky remains of something once edible, probably.

• A crushed granola bar — I will only resort to slurping up the crumbs if I get truly desperate.

• A Pen That Doesn’t Work – Along with two pencils without erasers.

• Hand Sanitizers – One for each global pandemic, just in case.

• Mints, Gum, and Maybe an Ancient Altoid – My own personal oral hygiene aisle.

• Random Lego – I don’t know how it got there. My sons haven’t played with Legos in ten years.

• Coupons That Expired in 2019 – Just in case Publix ever invents a time machine.

• A Tape Measure — Because you never know when you’ll need to measure a bookshelf to hold all your best sellers. Or possibly a doorway to an underground apocalypse shelter.

• Keys – To everything I’ve ever locked, even ones I have no idea what they go to. But I can’t throw them out because I might need that particular key someday.

• Travel-Sized Hairspray – Which I’m pretty sure TSA would confiscate if I tried to fly.

• Several Packs of Dried-Up Hand Wipes— Not sure why I needed so many, but if I wet them down, they’d probably still work. Although if I had access to water, I probably wouldn’t need the wipes.

• Dental Floss—Several used pieces that got stuffed back into my purse because I didn’t have anywhere to dispose of them.

• An Old Sock—And here I thought the dryer ate the unmatched socks.

• A Copy of My Marriage License—I have no idea why I carry this. After 34 years, no one has ever required me to provide proof of my marital status.

• Medications—One never knows when I or someone I’m with will need aspirin, sinus medication, anti-gas capsules, or seasickness pills.

• Band-Aids—This is a no-brainer. One also never knows when a bleeding event will occur that requires minor first aid. Of course, those Band-Aids have been in my purse for so long that they are probably adhered to the wrappers and have no sticky left.

• Notes Jotted on Everything—From old church bulletins to the envelope holding expired coupons, I jot ideas on any scrap of paper I can find. I can’t rely on my aging brain to remember the great ideas I had while standing in line at the grocery store or sitting in a traffic jam.

• Disposable Rubber Gloves—I might have to provide emergency first aid to a stranger or unclog a drain. I am assuming these old gloves won’t tear when I pull them on.

• A Retractable Back Scratcher— A lifesaver at times. Enough said.

• Old Facial Masks—Even if I needed them, I probably wouldn’t wear THOSE masks.

• Business Cards—For people I don’t remember.

So, yes, my purse may be a disaster zone, but it’s also proof that I’m somehow, ridiculously prepared for anything. Except for finding my keys.