5 things I wish I could do. Yes I really am this inept
January 26, 2011 § 8 Comments
Thanks to KateTakes5 for the listography. Like her, I’m going to keep my list confined to the plausible. Any of the superhero powers would be lost on me, anyway, I’d be too scared to use them. Which takes me to no 1.
1. I wish I could enjoy adrenaline. My whole life this has been lost on me. Fancy spinning around upside down, losing the contents of your stomach on a fairground ride? Er, no, actually. I was always the teenager holding everyone elses chips while they looked cool and got to hang out on the rides with the boys. Heights? Flying? Diving into the swimming pool? Terrifying. Abseiling?Bunjee jumping? Skydiving? Ain’t ever gonna happen.
2. I wish I could accept a compliment with a gracious ‘thank you.’ For example:
“ooh that’s such a lovely dress you’re wearing!”
(me) “Twelve ninety-nine, Dorothy Perkins.”
Why do I do this?
3. I wish I could blow dry my hair. This isn’t a moan because I don’t have the time to do it. I simply don’t have the ability. My hair looks great about four times a year. Straight after leaving the hairdressers. I then leave my hair for as long as I can conceivably get away with pretending I’ve overdone the hair serum, before returning to the status quo. No amount of posh brushes, hair straighteners and other bits of overpriced kit seem to be able to fix my miserable barnet.
4. I wish I could remain eloquent when feeling slightly intimidated. For example, when in a meeting with a board member, halfway through a sentence a little voice in my head will say ‘ha ha, you know you’re going to screw up now don’t you?’ and when talking about budgets I’ll suddenly forget the word for ‘profit.’ So I’ll be reduced to talking about the, er, money that will be left over once we take out the, er, costs…and will forever kick myself and go over the moment again and again in my dreams.
5. I wish I could do gymnastics. A cartwheel, an arab spring, even a forwards roll. I was the girl kept back at the end of gym class and made to practice her ‘cartwheel’ across the school hall in front of the big 5th years queuing for the next lesson. There is no way to make putting your hands on the floor and doing a little jump to the side like some kind of constipated frog look graceful and elegant, or indeed cool. Thanks also to my mum who eschewed Reebok in favour of regulation royal blue ski-pants. Not a good look.