Weird subject, I know, but am I the only one who finds herself noticing random, small things she’s not so great at? They might not matter in the least, but they irk me all the same. And of course I somehow end up doing these things all the time.
1. Estimating the number of something in a group
I will come home from an event and my mom will ask me, “How many people were there?” and I will have absolutely. no. idea. So she’ll ask, “OK, how many people were at your table? How many tables in the room?” and that won’t help me at all. I’ll think there were 35 people when the attendance was more like 250.
2. Peeling a hard-boiled egg
By the time I’m through, I’ve got a mashed up egg in my hand, mixed with shell, I might add, that is best left for the trash instead of my salad.
3. Untangling hangers
You know the saying Patience is untangling last year’s Christmas lights, or something like that? Well I say give me string lights over hangers any day. If I go to take a single hanger out of my closet, it somehow attaches itself to three others, a shirt, and a hanging belt, ripping half my wardrobe from its previously neat position.
When I come home from, well, anywhere, it takes me forever to unpack. I had bins of crap from school sitting in my dining room for, I kid you not, months before I finished unpacking. Even bags from weekend trips sit in the corner of my room long after I return home. I don’t think it affects anyone but me, but my mother would disagree.
I would argue that this one actually is a rather big deal, but it’s so prevalent that I had to include it. Laundry is never a good time for me, and I would do any other chore 10 times if it meant I didn’t have to do laundry. Clothes shrink when I cold-water wash and air dry them, they come out of the machine with stains, and it takes me way longer than necessary for reasons I do not understand. I am straight up bad at doing laundry and worse, I haaaate it. La vie [de la lessive] n’est pas belle.