My school bag collects receipts. I do not ask it to do this. It simply believes every small paper deserves a home.

When I buy a drink, the receipt enters my bag. When I buy bread, another receipt joins it. By Friday, my bag has enough paper to start a small office.

I tried to understand this habit. Maybe my bag is careful with money. Maybe it is preparing for tax season. Maybe it just likes proof that I ate melon bread.

The problem is not only receipts. My bag also collects train tickets, old notes, and candy wrappers with emotional value. I once found a wrapper and thought, "Ah, that was a good chocolate."

A clean bag looks responsible. A messy bag tells a story. Mine tells too many stories at the same time.

This weekend, I will empty it. I will throw away the paper, save one useful receipt, and promise to change.

On Monday, I will probably buy bread again. History may repeat itself.