There are people who can leave the house with a wallet and keys. I am not one of them. I have to pack, even if it’s just to go to the grocery store.

First, I need the necessities: an inhaler, a couple of masks (I always misplace mine if I only take one), at least two pens, a pencil, and a journal. Oh, yeah, and a wallet and keys (I clip them to my belt in case I misplace my tote bag) of course, and my reading glasses, which are on my head.

I also need the current book I’m reading. That goes without saying, even though I have hundreds of books on my phone. And a folding bag for the things I’m going to bring home, maybe two.

For a day trip, like the one I’m taking today, I also need a guidebook to the city I’m visiting, a portable folding keyboard in case I want to type something, a pair of AirPods because though my hearing aids will play music, they won’t play it well, and a lunch. Maybe a spare credit card in case Apple Pay doesn’t work.

The stereotype of a woman’s bag is that there are a lot of cosmetics and skin care products in there, but no. There isn’t even a comb in there. That reminds me, I should get a nail clipper from upstairs; I don’t ever get my nails done, but they tend to crumble just when I don’t have a clipper handy.

My packing philosophy is that I should never be bored or hungry. That takes some doing. I never actually get most of these things out of my bag, but just in case.

You can imagine the horror with which I contemplate packing for an actual trip. It’s a wonder I ever go anywhere at all, let alone the scores of places I’ve been.