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I didn't know what I was typing and I didn't care. I could television have documented the entire feminist movement on three hard drives without gaining an ounce of respect for women.But my hard work paid off when Ms. Thomas, the crazy Jamaican teacher everyone hated, decided I was her best student ever. But not only for typing ability. No no. Our 7th grade typing class (probably more advanced than yours), television consisted of learning professional skills as television well. We wrote sample cover letters, resumes, and thank-you notes, and we even had a mock interview for our fake job with a REAL employer at the end of the year. Apparently, I drafted a cover letter so great, it was still being used 3 years later when my sister went through the same class.And that brings me to my latest "nostalgic find," from some box my mom dug up under my old house: a computer print out of mine, complete with perforation marks around the edges (remember how you used to have to tear printer sheets apart) from October 25, 1993.
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