I Pulled an Old Receipt Out of My Purse and Cried

Dear Delyara, It was from the pharmacy. Nothing dramatic on it. Shampoo, cough syrup, deodorant, toothpaste, one birthday card, gum. Just ordinary life totaled up in black ink. But seeing that receipt again — folded small, worn at the edges, sitting at the bottom of my purse like evidence — made me feel like I was drowning in the cost of simply existing. I sat on the bed and cried over a CVS receipt because it looked like my whole life: practical, necessary, unglamorous, expensive in quiet ways nobody claps for. I hate how often survival comes in itemized form now. That’s what upset me. Not the paper. The proof.