You've been there for me since the beginning. I remember the first time I used you. It was my first day of seventh grade. I was going to be organized, and I'd done everything in my power to ensure I stayed that way. I had six different colors of mechanical pencils, four of the erasable pens Mrs. Keen let us use on tests, and two erasers. My colored pencils were safely tucked away in my backpack should they be needed, and a glue stick was in the front pouch. I used you to write important notes in my planner and kept you neatly color coded for an entire three weeks.
Mrs. Garret, our art teacher, taught us how to use post-it note pads to make flip books. All of us were bad at it, and most of them ended up awkwardly drawn, but you still sit in a box somewhere that our parents kept.
When I got to high school, I needed help studying. I'd use you to take notes in books I'd borrowed from the library. I used you to mark certain quotes and summarize the meaning. I'd also use you as a bookmark should I need one. I wrote two really good research papers because of you.
To-do lists were my go-to when I first got to college, and you helped me keep track of time. I'd keep to-do lists up all over my side of the room, from the wall beside my bed and the side of the dresser beside my desk.
You've seen me grow up, post-it notes. You were there at my best and my worst. I've had you color coded, crumpled up, doodled on, and folded. I could never repay you for all that you've done for me.
