Online account? Old USB? How about a few smudged and faded sheets typed with a manual Underwood typewriter?! I assume they still exist somewhere, though I haven't seen them since our last move four years ago.

Reading childhood poetry is like cringing at the photos in your old high school yearbook. Was that really me????

Thanks for the nostalgia ride, Caroline. Actually, I don't have to go that far back. My early days on Medium are embarrassing enough!