I can’t find my car keys.

I haven’t a clue where I left my cell phone.

And my closet looks like a tornado ripped through it.

The only solution?

Clean out my purse.

How, you may ask, does cleaning out my purse help solve any of these dilemmas?

Well I’m not sure, but whenever my life’s a wreck and out of control, the first thing I do is clean out my purse because my purse is an extension of my life.

When I was a teenager, I needed a big purse, mostly for my hair brush – which back in the 1970s was as big as a barbell. There also had to be room for three tubes of lip gloss and two packs of gum.

As a young mother, my purse took a back seat to the diaper bag. That bag was great with the first child because I thought I needed everything baby related at all times.

In that diaper bag, I carried five or six extra diapers, a big tube of diaper-rash ointment, the large container of baby wipes, blankets, an extra set of clothes and plenty of toys.

With my second child, I started relying on my purse instead of the diaper bag. I pared down to two extra diapers, wipes and an extra shirt.

By the time the youngest one came along, one extra diaper, a travel pack of wipes and three or four Matchbox cars all fit quite nicely in my purse and I ditched the diaper bag.

My purse, I discovered came in quite handy with young children. It served as a booster seat in a restaurant, a pillow for a sleepy toddler and a physical barrier between two squabbling brothers. And because I had an indestructible purse, it didn’t matter when the purse was stepped on, thrown up on, used for third base or dropped in a mud puddle.

When the boys were older and no longer in need of toys or diapers, my purse became a holding ground for a reporter’s notebook, a big cell phone – which is how they were made back in the day – at least 10 pens and my camera.

Friends would show me their expensive purses, and I’d admire their accessory but I knew I had a real keeper with my reliable, sensible purse.

More importantly than the useful duties my bag carried out, my purse reflected my mood. The first time I realized my purse and my life were related was a few years ago when I couldn’t find my checkbook.

I realized I also couldn’t find the grocery list or a paycheck stub. I put two and two together and decided to clean the bag out and see if my mood improved.

I started with the wallet and emptied all the change. I realized first off that’s why my purse was so heavy. Then I took all the receipts out and made a stack of those.

Next to come out were the empty candy wrappers, runaway Tic-Tacs and Life Saver candies and all the pens that no longer worked.

I only put back when I needed, and a sense of calm came over me. I now carried around an in-control bag.

My life couldn’t be far behind. And, maybe it’s because I tricked myself into believing that fact, but now whenever my life’s a wreck, the first thing I do is clean out my purse and my wallet.

And after a hectic and busy week, where my car keys went missing every day and a candy bar melted in the bottom of the front section, a little cleaning just might be in order.

Now if I can just find my purse…

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.