I’m trying to keep my blogging momentum going. Or get it started. Something like that anyway. I was working on something far more profound but it’s led me in so many circles I decided to stick to Denyse Whelan’s link-up theme today and I’m sharing some snaps. Not just any snaps… some that offer some insight into moi. Kinda.
The first two things I found when tidying my study a while ago. They were part of a heap of stuff my mother had handed me to me (report cards and the like, which I ditched).
I’m bloody old
This ‘bank book’ opens on 7 November 1979 with $155.53 in it. That would have been a fortune back then. When I started school we had Commonwealth Bank money boxes and I’m fairly sure, our parents were encouraged (or perhaps required?) to open accounts for us. I started school in 1972 and—as I was born at the end of 1967—I would have been four. It’s likely then this will have been my bank-book from my high school years.
I worked on Saturday mornings from 1983 at Chandlers (ostensibly on the video counter) and used to earn about $12 each week, so it looks like I diligently banked $10 of that. I can’t actually remember going into the bank to deposit money so wonder if mum or dad did that for me.
For those needing closure, this bank-book finishes in late August 1987 (when I was at Uni) with a balance of $4.38.
I’ve always played the victim
I would certainly have been in primary school when I wrote this (from the look of my writing), so twelve at the most.
My fave line is… that my parents buy me clothes and things I don’t really need. But they don’t buy me what I want.
It reeks of attention-seeking behaviour as I’ve obviously no idea who I’d intended to send it to. I can only assume my plan was to subtly leave it somewhere for my parents to discover. Of course I must have imagined they’d be overcome with guilt and grief and beg my forgiveness and immediately bestow upon me the attention I deserved.
Or buy me what I wanted. Who knows….
I’m hoping the fact that my mother kept it for years after meant she thought it was funny. (And perhaps that I’d read it one day decades later and realise what a little shit I was!)
Decluttering and non-functioning printers
I needed to print some documents on the weekend so dug out the printer I’ve not used in over 3.5yrs. And no matter what I tried (drivers I downloaded etc) I could not get it to work. I mean, does anyone even use printers these days?
Upending my cupboard looking for my printer required moving things around which means…. my study needs another clean up and clear out. Surely I only just rubbed the last one off the to-do list on my whiteboard?!
Do you use a printer? Have any tips? Or perhaps you have horrible letters you wrote as an ungrateful child?