Take Me Back

My mom just pulled out a textbook from my senior year and asked if I had anything overly personal that I wanted to keep out of it. I shook my head and immediately said no, but then when she opened the garage door to throw it in the recycle bin I stopped her. Who knows, I could've kept something in there that I might need!

Well, here's what I did find.


I liked to doodle in class.

A lot. Almost every page had some kind of word scribble or doodle on it. 

And yes, I have no earthly idea why on a talk about the good aspects of marriage, I have a heart and the word MONEY. Hmm. I think I'm probably as worried about me as you are.

*cough*

Aaaanyway . . .

The last pages in the books held my masterpieces.

I loved practicing my handwriting. There's a picture of me in my senior yearbook showing this exact doodle off. Seriously, I look so excited about it too. Is that a girl thing? None of the boys ever did that . . . they were usually too busy trying to make their handwriting so miniscule that it could not be read, and therefore not graded wrong. (they would never say that, but I knew that's why they did it)

I never thought I would be saving doodles from the recycle bin, but somehow, I really want to keep these. They're a connection to the 18-yr old me and I can't tell you how many times I've tried to remember what it was like to be 18. I know it was only two years ago, but those two years have changed so much about who I am, that's it's hard to remember not being . . .well, me. So, these doodles will be my ticket back to a place where my parents took care of me, my stress was nonexistent, and I had a room to myself . . .

I had a room to myself?!

I also had a star above my name.

Man, was I living in a dream world.

m(r)