I'm pretty good at a few things. I can win a staring contest with my dog. I can hoover chocolate like a boss right before my period starts. I can read a book in a few hours, and occasionally I can yell at my kids using their correct name.
In my thirty years on this rock I've realized i'm really bad at a lot of things. A few i'm sure I've mentioned before but it's always fun to showcase my failings.
I cannot sing. At all. Imagine a tone deaf cow mooing mournfully while someone slowly tortures it to death while listening to Billy Joel's Greatest Hits.
I cannot make coffee. I get out the canister, I get the cold water, I put the grounds in the dookickey, I hit the button and liquid hell is born.
I have a terrible memory. I am a worthless tooth fairy, I forget inside jokes, I will stare blankly while you remind me of something I just said to you a moment before...
Math and I have been fighting since I was a child. It's still winning. I'd tell you by how much but it will not let me figure it out.
I absolutely suck at hiding the emotions on my face. A poker face this girl cannot pull. If I don't like you, you will be able to tell instantly. If I think you're stupid you will see it on my face. If I want to ride you like a bike, you will know. It's really embarrassing.
Anything requiring athletic ability, count me out. Until they start counting Tetris or Catholic Guilt as sports, I'll be on the bench.
Speaking of sports, I'm that person who throws the bowling ball behind them and takes out innocent bystanders.
I always lose my chapstick, earrings, sock mates, this one black cardigan that I swear is hiding from me, bills, shoes, eyeliner, my wedding ring on more than one occasion, phone numbers, my mind.
I always text the wrong person. Random people in my phone get messages meant for someone else. All. The. Time.
I'm also really really bad at finishing thi