Clever McCleverpants can't operate window blinds.

So, after reviewing my posts for the month of August, I'm starting to see a little theme. I am awesome. I read good books if they're less than 150 pages. I plan for the future. I'm homeschooling my kids. I win 2 day battles with small children. I work extra jobs. Babysitting. I can do a cartwheel (that one didn't make it into a post). Who rocks the house? I rock the house. And on top of everything, I write an ultra-successful blog that tens of people are reading everyday. It's hard to be humble when I'm such a model of successful womanhood.

So in an effort to reconnect with readers who can't do cartwheels, I thought I'd make a little list of a few things that I can't do.

I can't get through a day without singing out loud.

I can't get through a day without heroin. I mean Dr. Pepper.

I can't operate simple mechanisms...blinds are only the top of the list. Corkscrews are 2nd. Alarm clocks are 3rd. The list goes on...

I don't understand technology. I'm pretty sure there's little midget elves in my computer painting these words on my screen. I put cookies on the desk at night in case they're hungry.

I can't read knitting/sewing/crocheting patterns. I'm condemned to spend the rest of my life knitting scarves for this reason. Scarves for my elves.

I often operate under delusions of grandeur. An idea for a children's story = I'm a bestselling author hanging out with JK Rowling in NYC. A new business idea = I'm Donald Trump, getting interviewed on Oprah explaining my road to wild success. Delusions of grandeur are quite difficult to get over when you never actually complete the original task you thought was so great.

I'm gullible and I can't tell when someone is tricking me. I spend half my life saying, "Really? Are you serious? Shut up...you're foolin' me!" And running away in tears.

I have an aversion to cussing. I never picked it up and I don't like movies or books with potty mouths. If Will says 'hell' or 'ass' I say, "Watch your mouth. I'm a lady." Unless he uses the word 'fatass'. That one always makes me giggle.

I'm just now realizing I'm not going to be a prodigy at anything.

I'm paranoid about my friends hating me. If I haven't heard from you in a while, I think that you and everyone else I've ever known are partying at an undisclosed location, telling stories about how glad you are you finally ditched me. I should probably tell a therapist about this one. That sounds messed up.

I spend way too much time passing mental judgements on celebrities. "And how did anyone ever think Nick Nolte was sexy?" "Nicole Ritchie/Skeletor looks like a freakin' corpse. Someone should cover up dem bones." "Kate Hudson's little boy is the prettiest little girl I've ever seen. He should get a Pantene endorsement." These are things I say to myself during my day. Out loud.

There you have it. I'm as flawed and not-smart as I look in the picture below. And as narcissistic and self-absorbed as anyone else who writes a blog. So I'm off to go read some more books about getting rich and teaching phonics.

Try not to be jealous.

http://here-in-idaho.blogspot.com/