Spent the last half an hour looking through a box I found in the shed filled with old folders and that. Thought I might find some used polypockets in it since I’m running low in school. I only found three. In amongst about five folders. However, apart from that, I found my ten- and eleven-year-old self. Not a pretty sight.
At that age, by looks of it, my interests consisted mainly of Avril Lavigne, Busted, Blazin’ Squad and Eminem. I also found several copies of Sabrina’s Secrets magazine (yeah, that beauty magazine/ marketing ploy from the Sabrina the Teenage Witch crowd), as well as songs and stories I’d written. And notes I’d written to people but had never sent. (Passive-aggressive since day one, clearly.) I was such a strange child. And that box barely scratches the surface of what an arrogant little snot I was.
The only useful things I found in the box were a half used refill pad, the three polypockets, some plastic book covering stuff, a sheet of Harry Potter wrapping paper, and four blank cards.