One of the many reasons I have to take deep breaths in my own company

I still have my diary from first grade and onward. It's a yellow, sort of touristy thing, with a small lock that is absolutely useless.

The first entry goes something like: Hello, my name is Kaisa and I'm seven years old. Today is my birthday.
It's very sweet. Very odd at times. Nothing too special.

But.

Here and there you find these corrections written with blue ink over the original writing.
Things like changing the ages if the people I'm talking about, or correcting spelling mistakes.

So. Ergo. When I got a bit older I went back to my diary, read it and corrected the mistakes I did when I was seven years old.

I'm so anal I can't even stand it.