Receipts remind me of money I no longer have. Stacks of receipts remind me of taxes… and I guess stacks of money I no longer have.
Tonight, I finally brought myself to sit down and deal with my 2010 taxes. I pulled out a small green Ikea box full of wads of crumpled receipts, and began straightening each one, neatly stacking them into tax-worthy categories. A funny thing happened. As I looked at each tired piece of paper, memories began flooding back. Trips to the West Coast, drinks with old college friends in Manhattan, long dinners with last year’s love attempts. I began to walk through each conversation and the thoughts going through my head at the time.
It’s not until I was slowed into this reminder that I realized how full our lives are. I spend so much of my time thinking about the goals that haven’t yet been achieved, that I completely forget about the journey so far. Without being told to, I was ushered into a sincere thankfulness; a genuine appreciation of life.
Thanks . . . I guess, is all I’m saying. Who knew taxes could be so fun? And screw it. I don’t want the money back.