Finding the Truth About Myself
I’ve been near-sighted since the sixth grade. That was not a good year. My school had a fire, so I had to walk even farther to another school that was next to the railroad tracks. My desk faced the window, and I would count railroad cars to keep myself awake. (It is not true that naps in school stop after kindergarten.) In fourth grade I remember being put in a special class to learn “new math,” which was actually algebra. In fifth grade poetry began to make sense. But sixth