In an effort to organize our lives, Coleman and I have spent the last few weekends and evenings cleaning out our basement. It’s amazing that we’ve moved four times and have carried so much unnecessary junk with us!
Yesterday, I spent some time searching through the oldest boxes of all: my memoirs. Overflowing with birthday cards, drawings, school projects and printed AIM conversations I thought I would never want to forget, there was a lot to look at. I laughed, I cried, I texted my sister every time I found something interesting.
When Coleman got home, I was excited to show him some of the best stuff I found; however, he didn’t seem as interested as I was. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I was shouting over the movie he was trying to watch. Whatever.
So, guess what? I’ll share the goodies with you all instead!
Today’s goody? A class photo from 1987. I don’t remember this class, I don’t know where it was, and I don’t know any of the people in the picture. None of that matters, though, because this is the worst class picture ever!
Apparently, something must have been happening on this —–> side of the room, since everyone is looking over there. Except for that crying kid. What a wuss.