Me. Aged 10. Or 11. Or thereabouts.

Remember 1994? When everyone was wearing those heatglo T’shirts you could turn flourescent just by blowing on them? Before owning a pair of GHD’s was the norm and Take That were big the first time round?

Well I’ve been right back there this evening.

I found my diary you see. It contains the thoughts, angst and lists of loves from my Year 6 self. I had just turned 11 and thought I had the world sussed. Clearly, I hadn’t (especially not Maths or boys), but who was I to correct myself? Continue reading »