Yesterday I got a diary. And every place I went with it they (-> my sisters) kept bothering me and trying to figure out where I was going to put it but finally I found a private place to write and they don’t have a clue where I put it.

You’re a stealthy one, Thirdgradeself. Even I have no idea where you put it, since you were crafty enough to leave no written record of this private place. Did I really have a whole separate “diary” from this journal, in which I have just about an entry a day for three years in a row? Did I have THAT much to say? I shall go hunting for this “diary” over the weekend, maybe it depicts a complete alter ego of which I have repressed memories. FASCINATING!