receipts

thinking about all these restaurant receipts piling up on my table. trying to figure out why I keep them. think I have/have always had this fear of forgetting so many things I have done, though this does not result in taking pictures of everything I do as would be expected. no, the receipts are from mostly restaurants and are reminders of where all the money went perhaps; it feels somewhat desperate, unimportant, but I keep thinking there is going to be this time when I want to get every receipt out and recreate the life I lived, or at the very least use it as a structure around which to recreate for myself the other memories that are strung between those instances. Being unable to look back with enough gratitude, looking forward to no thing in particular, longing for unknowns and unforeseens, loathing the stifling predictability for which I have only myself (and to some degree a crippling amount of debt or underpaying job dependingly) to blame... this is some of my chronically current lot... Maybe the receipts are simply a testament to the value I place in eating?