Might as well. The only other thing left to do is try to find an innovative way of hiding the hole in your opaque tights (an old colleague of mine used to colour in the exposed skin with a black felt-tip) or clean the hairs out of your brush (not a euphemism).
Unfortunately, most of what comes out of your purse will be pretty damning material evidence for the prosecution in the ongoing; ‘you’re actually spaffing it on elevenses!’ vs ‘no, really, I am poorer than a church mouse’ trial. It may also conclusively demonstrate that in the last month you actually had enough money to put a deposit down on a flat. But now Starbucks and the bank where Heat and Reveal put all their money are in joint possesion your deposit. You can forgive the mags (you have to, they might commission you), but you always knew Starbucks were bastards.
There’ll also be a 2nd class stamp. Everyone has one somewhere. One that cheekily escaped the franking machine, gleefully ripped off the envelope in that state of gleeful-ness that skint people express whenever they think the Goddess of Luck has popped by for a bit (she also leaves half a packet of cigarettes on top of a slot machine sometimes. Or places a miserable student on a till who is so lethargic they can’t even effectively scan the barcode on a packet of turkey drummers. Result!)…sorry, back to the stamp thing – yeah, you’d have spent about 37 seconds wondering how to get it off the bit of envelope it’s stuck to. Then abandoned the whole caper and gone for coffee. With those thieving, flat-stealing, life ruining, bean-roasting fuckers at Star-bastard-Bucks.
Other detritus may include a bus ticket from 1990, a Computers For Schools Voucher (see post 61 and now the second most useless piece of paper after the Euro note.) And probably a flancer shopping list written in a pen you stole from a betting shop:
Which has about as much point as Kerry Katona’s daily to-do list:
Poke tongue out at a pap
Go to bed
But making lists is a necessary part of flancer
time wasting life and therefore must be done.
There may also be a mysterious receipt for over 90£ and you cannot for the life of you remember what it was for. ‘Smith & Co.? Who are Smith & Co?’ This dilemma will completely immobilise you for 5 days. ‘What on earth did I spend £94.50 on?’ You will wonder aloud until everyone in your household wants to slap your stupid, bemused face. ‘£94.50?’ It’s a lot of money. What was I thinking? What was that for? £94.50?’ and so on, like your nan when she gets on one about where she put her glasses down in March last year.
Oh, there will be no money in your purse whatsoever.