My Fail Blog.

Ugh. I know I'm failing at the blog task.  I'm trying to write  a book. All good ideas are going in there.  And then rewritten. And then deemed not worthy. And then kicked to the side.  And then I drink and question why in the world I ever decided to write and publish a book. And then my husband reminds me that I should keep writing and fulfill that dream.  And then I start the process all over again.

There are many things I fail at other than blogging:

1. Math.  I am so terrible at Math that I can't help my 5th grader with his homework. I've been told to not even look at it.  I have always been bad at Math.  Since 9th grade, any time a Math test has been laid down in front of me, it has resulted in immediate sweating and nausea and doodles of cats around the edges of the paper.  I don't Math.  And now they are teaching a common core style of Math that I can't really help my first graders either.  It looks like Chinese to me.  CHINESE! If someone tells you to find the double down in the number sentence, you're going to want to punch them in the face, I promise.

2. Organization.  My 3rd grade teacher told me my desk looked like Rumpke and she was right. It still does but I can find anything I need. I enjoy disorganization where I work.  Besides in my home, I am nervous about anything with a pristine, polished look.  It doesn't make a lot of sense because I'm a Capricorn and I allegedly thrive on organization.  I do love office supplies but I don't use them properly.  A lot of my post-its are rolled up and taped so that I can build lincoln log cabins with them when I'm bored.  I save all the other post-its in a drawer. Yes. I have a post-it drawer.  You never know when I might need that phone number of that one client, that one time.  My other drawer is full of mail I don't want to open at work.

3. Keeping my cool.  I could never be a 911 operator. In my head, full of SNL Skits that I'm constantly writing, I have a hilarious one that is based on around this premise. (Don't steal that NBC, I will crush you with a lawsuit.)  When I imagine teaching my children how to drive, it starts with me screaming this sentence, 'THIS IS A GIANT DEATH MACHINE!'  To say the least, I'm not allowed to teach the children Math or how to drive.  This also goes for situations that upset me like bad customer service.  There's actually a Goodwill in my city that I was escorted out by security and told not to return to.  There's actually a few places I'm not allowed to go anymore.  The older I am, the better I do at keeping my cool, but I'm not quite where I want to be yet.

This is just a small number of things.  I'll save the rest for you to wonder about on your own time. Just kidding. Please don't wonder about me on your alone time.  That's creepy...which happens to be another thing I'm no good at: Not being creepy. I was born this way, baby.