Paper Trail

It's been a rough couple of days at work and at home. My internet connection at home has lost its will to live since last Wednesday and because Time Warner sucks ass, they kept me on hold for two hours, until nearly midnight, before telling me they'd send someone Thursday to take a look.

"Oh tomorrow?" I asked hopefully.
"Oh, is it not Thursday yet for you? We meant next Thursday." the snide customer service rep replied.

So, I have lugged my beloved ibook to a cafe, subjected to the cafe's endless ABBA CD, to catch up on my personal emails, blog to my heart's content, and catch up on all my own blog reading. For the past few days, lost and bewildered on what to do without an internet connection at home, I've managed to:
1) clear out the 2 foot pile of statements on my kitchen table into their respective binders. My first step to organizing my finances for the year!
2) given up hope on sewing and thrown out all socks with holes in it
3) clean my apartment once again
4) shower at my neighbor's place - yeah that has nothing to do with the internet itself. However, in an effort of solidarity with the internet, the bathtub declined to drain too, and my landlord thought calling a plumber out late at night or the weekend didn't warrant the extra costs for my comfort
5) sorted and threw out a giant bag of receipts, some dating as far back as 1998.

Did I mention I'm a pack rat? And a nostalgic sappy fool? Everything reminds me of something. The reason I saved all my receipts is because back in the day, I once managed to balance my checkbook every month, and had high hopes to itemize every single thing I ever bought diligently.

Nearly ten years later, I have a paper trail of expenditures and memories - receipts from:
- Lake Tahoe in 1998, the first time I went snowboarding
- Coffee Bean, tons of them from 1998 - 2002 indicating the days when I could eat a muffin and an ice blended coffee for lunch several days of the week without batting an eye or worrying about weight
- Storyopolis, 2003 - a children's book store with artwork from famous illustrators, the time when I took the boy who broke my heart to share in one of my favorite places
- San Francisco, 2002 - a roadtrip with a dear friend from my childhood who for reasons unknown to me no longer reciprocates my friendship
- Beastie Boys concert 2004, when I took a random assortment of friends with me, including my favorite surly tattooed boy that no one would ever guess I'd date
- My sofa, "Oscar the Couch", and Ibook, "Christopher aka Ashton", from 2005, my first big purchases ever, items that weren't hand me downs from my parents
- Target, 2002-2003 - dozens and dozens of cans of cat and dog food from when my sweet geezer cats were still alive and the dog hadn't disappeared

I threw away a bag full of receipts, knowing that pieces of paper like these didn't mean anything to my memories. And boy did it feel freeing. (OK, I kept some. The ones where I might need for warranties and the ones that had REALLY significant memories tied to them. I'm not THAT strong.) I can't wait to rid my place of more junk. But I'm still pissed at Time Warner.