The Past. A Visit.

While collecting my various school and college certificates from my parents' house yesterday I came across a box of paperwork and notes and photos from my university years.  Not a big box.  If I'd had a big box of notes I might have got a better degree.  I was instantly lost in the past.  I found letters from friends, pictures from digs I'd been on, and other bits and pieces.  Letters expressing condolences for the first friend I'd ever lost.  Letters from my oldest friend about her university experiences, and a letter from a very good friend and house-mate expressing deep concern that I might not return for the third year, as my second-year re-sits had gone badly.  I'd forgotten about that. I also found the reply to my complaint about disruption during one of the re-sits.  I had forgotten about that, too.  I suspect that was what kept me in.  I found a photo of a bearded, long-haired, thin archaeologist by a section of Roman road, and didn't immediately realise it was me.  I didn't look too bad, actually - I thought I'd spent the nineties looking like a knob.  There were copies of section drawings I'd done (surprisingly good) and lecture notes (shockingly bad).  And at the bottom of this box of reminiscence?  The sheet music for Yesterday.  I had a brief chuckle, piled everything back into the box, and set off for home in a more thoughtful mood.