I don't have the foggiest clue how guys do it.

They leave the house day after day with nothing but pockets acting as a storage device for their stuff.

Is that really where you keep everything, fellas? Are there necessities in your pocket, or are you just happy to see us? Or is our definition of "necessity" vastly different?

On a regular basis, the contents of my purse consists of items that are completely absurd and rarely necessary.

I hate that I'm attached to all this "stuff." I wish I could break free from the chains of gum and lip gloss, but their power over me is much too strong.

Today I present the current contents of my purse, but, to be fair, know that I recently performed my quarterly purse-switch so what is in there right now is insanely mild compared to what can be found at the end of the quarter.

Some women switch their purses as often as they switch their outfits but, for me, that makes no sense. It's like renting a U-haul and moving every other day. There is just way too much involved to pull off a simple switcheroo.

So, without further ado, not that you should care, here is all (well, most) of the garbage I haul along with me on a daily basis:

Pills, baby, pills

If I were to be pulled over and the officer decided to perform a thorough search, including my purse, he would think that he just nabbed one of the biggest pill-popping or pushing criminals around, but he would be so wrong.

Although he may need to refer to the Merck manual in order to identify the individual pills - at least once a month a cap comes off of, at the minimum, two pill bottles and a pool of unidentified pills accumulates at the bottom of my purse - trust me, there is nothing illicit going on there.

Normally, the majority of the pills are vitamins, followed by some ibuprofen and Benedryl-like stuff to help me sleep when I'm working crazy shifts and the rest are legit prescription pills that are in no way exciting or scandalous..

If anything, pills may be one of the few things in my purse that make sense to carry around.

Although, I can't imagine it's necessary to carry the entire bottle for each when I could just invest in a fancy pill box and consolidate.

I mean, I don't believe I'll ever come across a day where I need 100 ibuprofen at a time, but, in the event of a zombie apocalypse, they may come in handy for me and my fellow survivors.

Gum undone

Will someone please volunteer to immediately inform me when Trident makes a pack of gum that remains intact and doesn't just spit all the pieces out to join in the sea of my pocketbook pills?

I chew gum on occasion, but I find that, much like relationships, it generally loses its flavor way too soon and I have to spit it out.

I suppose I could buy the gum in the fancy plastic container that snaps shut, but I'm a creature of habit and I like my strawberry Trident and no other strawberry gum is going to win my heart.

Needless to say, at least five to 10 pieces are wasted out of every pack because of cross-contamination. Be it sand from the beach or perfume leaked from a sample or trial size I picked up, when I can't be too sure what the gum has been fraternizing with deep in the cockles of my purse, it's certainly not spending time in my mouth.

Change is going to come

Sometimes I think it would make just as much sense to install straps on a piggy bank and carry it around as it is to haul my purse and the insane amount of change it contains at any given time.

When an unsuspecting person, other than myself, comes in contact with my purse to move it out of the way or pick it up for me, they almost always say, "Do you have a bowling ball in here or what?" or some variation of the sort.

No, I have never carried a bowling ball in my purse, nor am I toting hand weights around with me for an impromptu workout.

There are four reasons my purse often bears the same weight as an anvil: quarters, dimes, nickels and pennies - and the occasional Canadian coin.

And I have not a clue where it all comes from. I feel like I never have cash and use my debit card for the majority of my purchases, but somehow, a few hundred pounds of change finds its way into my life regularly.

A high-gloss finish

By far, the biggest culprit hindering the amount of space in my handbag is lip gloss.

I have a huge issue hoarding lip products. I have no idea where it comes from, but I do not have the ability to carry less than five lip products with me at a time and because of my inability to stop purchasing such items, that's probably only one-tenth of my entire arsenal.

Currently, I have 10 different kinds of lip gunk on my person, but that is so mild, it's not even funny.

Last time I switched purses, I counted 18 different lip goods.

Seriously, 18.

That's an insurmountable problem.

Even in the event of a zombie apocalypse, that's completely excessive.

I can't explain what's going on there; I may need some kind of electroshock lip product therapy.

And, you would think, with 10 different lip products floating around, when I'm driving and I blindly reach into my purse in an effort to find one, you would think, the odds of pulling one out would be fairly high.

No. Instead, I pull out everything but.

If I had a dollar for every time I grabbed a pen or a marker or a can of Mace instead of a lip product, I'd have enough dollars to cash in for like 20 pounds of change.

Random acts of produce

Finally, I never have groceries in my house, but for some reason, I'm always packing some kind of produce in my purse.

This week it's a banana, but apples, oranges and clementines also make regular appearances.

Perhaps that makes sense in order to regulate my blood sugar in a pinch, but I don't have the sugar diabetes, so perhaps it doesn't.

I'd resolve to work on this in the new year, but I'm too much of a realist to believe this is the type of behavior I can change. It would probably require years of therapy to unchain me from my purse and what I carry in it. I can't imagine I'm the only one that's like this, and if that's the worst of any our vices, I think we'll be all right.

(Jenna Wasakoski, a News-Item editor, is a graduate of Von Lee School of Aesthetics and is certified as a professional makeup artist.)

In my purse

(Clockwise, in some kind of swirly pattern from top left)

- Various pill bottles

- Pen

- Sharpie

- Travel perfume

- Trial-size perfume

- Fingerless gloves

- 10 lip products

- Walmart receipt

- $3.91 in change

- A lottery ticket that is ripped in half, which, hopefully, wasn't a winner

- Tickets for mixed drinks for a local watering hole

- Checkbook

- More keys than a janitor carries

- Wallet

- Empty gum package

- Individual pieces of gum which have escaped the gum package

- Banana

- Camera case which is actually filled with more change.

- Measuring tape (because measuring stuff is fun)

- One false eyelash

- Headphones for the gym

- Mace and more keys

- A little device that helps peel an orange

- Vitamins for healthy hair, skin and nails

- The sunglasses which would have come in handy Sunday when I squinted my whole way to Carlisle

And, trust me, this is so minimal compared to the amount of things that usually occupy this space.