I was very upset when I was younger that my parents refused to put a bumper sticker I got at school on the station wagon. It was a white rectangle with purple writing that said "I'd Rather Be Dancing."
I was not then, and never did become, a dancer. I have absolutely no idea why I had this bumper sticker. But it ended up in my sticker collection, on its own page, after the puffy animals and the scratch-n-sniff Strawberry Shortcake pages.
For some reason I associate this memory with another memory of being in maybe 3rd grade and making up a routine to "Eye of the Tiger." It involved mounts and everything.
I was not allowed to own leg warmers, but I made my own out of my dad's discarded gym socks.
I think I am starting to understand why my life is such a mess.
