My year in business receipts

This rainy evening, I’m doing archaeology in my living room. I’m gently smoothing, sorting, and stacking bits of my past under the guise of tax preparation. These receipts are a scrapbook of 2012: a year of drive-ins, Fancy Fridays, and warm nights on the plain streets of Scranton before I stumbled into frozen Vermont. Among the layers, I’ve found:



  • The last vet receipt for my beloved dog, Shyloh.
  • A first date (pizza), the day that I fell in love (chinese), a first fight (ice cream), and a last date (pizza again).
  • The first time I met the residents of Riverdale at a small pizza place in Philly.
  • A hungover morning at a diner in Binghamton with some fine archaeologists (yes, real archaeologists!)
  • Postage for a package of puzzle pieces mailed to an old friend in California.
  • An uncanny number of gas station egg breakfast sandwiches.
  • Manic Panic pink hair dye (and accompanying bleach) for that quarter-life crisis.
  • Champagne yeast for that… experiment.
  • The gas receipt from the closest that I ever came to running out of gas.
  • That burrito that I ate right after I interviewed at UVM… sadly, because I didn’t think I was going to be accepted.
  • The night that I wore a “fancy hat” to the V-spot and, apparently, our server named our table “fancy hat”.
  • My 26th birthday lunch on our way to the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon.
  • The receipt from THIS gas station.

Sadly, I can’t write off any of these as business expenses. Who knew tax day could be so emotional?


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