Wednesday, July 6, 2011

I'm World Class, Baby!

I have finally figured out what I'm better at than anyone else in the world.

Are you ready for this?

I am a first-class, elite-level, totally phemomenal...


Oh, yes. If I knew how to do bar graphs in Blogger, I'd make one to illustrate my potential versus my actual acheivement. I imagine it would look something like if you built a mud hut next to the Chrysler Building and then asked, "All right. Who nailed it?"

Me=mud hut. Almost always.

Here's the thing. I have moments, measured by flashes in the pan, of greatness. Tiny little discrete instances in which I accomplish spectacular things. My father's eulogy. A couple of stellar scenes of dialogue. A perfect jambalaya.

Those were some of those moments. 

But mostly I am a three-toed sloth in a herd of cheetahs, distinguished only by my total lack of engagement with all the things that matter: dishes, dinner-making, grocery shopping. Et cetera. Et cetera. Forever, amen.

There is a suitcase on my living room floor. It took me about four days to empty it, an armful at a time every time I went upstairs at which point I deposited at least half of what I schlepped up on the first available surface that may or may not have had any discernible relationship to where said pile of crap actually belonged. And three days later, the suitcase is still on my living room floor. I have no idea why.
I was feeling pretty bad about my underachieving until I realized that every skill we've been given, including this most unusual talent of mine, can be used for the greater good.

So I now officially invite all of you to drop by my house without warning whenever you need to feel better about yourselves. When I answer the door mid-afternoon still in my pajamas to reveal a living room strewn with toys and food wrappers, and one of my children crawls up to you wearing nothing but a diaper that's sort of almost all the way on, and the other runs out with his underpants on his head screaming, "Look at my stupid hat!", I promise you . . . your self-esteem will immediately improve. It's almost magical.

If you are allowed to see my kitchen, you will be mildly disgusted but feel like a superhuman.

Also, my underacheivement increases in direct proportion to the heat. It's over 90 today. Come on by. You'll feel amazing when you leave.


Kristina P. said...

I have been known to go two days, on a weekend, without showering. I did put on deodorant, however, so maybe I did slightly overachieve there.

Donna K. Weaver said...

You made me smile. I don't consider myself an underachiever because of the things I don't do. I just consider that I've reprioritized my life. It's easier for me since my children are grown and can take care of bodily functions on their own, including feed themselves. I spent SO many hours taking care of those things earlier, now I'm writing (and all the other stuff that goes with it like blog hopping).

As a lesson in the Laurel manual teaches, you can do anything you want in life. You can't do everything. So you pick and choose what's important for you and your family at any particular time.

Good luck!

Wendy Williams said...

After reading this post, I firmly believe we are kindred spirits! Thanks for sharing that part of yourself! I needed to hear it!

Chantele Sedgwick said...

Uh ... My kids and I were in our pajamas until about 3:00 yesterday. Yep. Can you say slacker? ;) Oh well. We had a pajama day and it was FUN dang it!

Melinda said...

Liar. I will not feel better about myself if I saw your house because you just described how I life to a "t". "tee"? Whatever. Anyway, the point is, you are surrounded by three toed sloths, it is the cheetahs that are rare. That is a fact! :)

Jolene Perry said...

You. Are. Hysterical. :D

I have to invite people over for dinner or my house would NEVER be clean. And - inevitably - on the day of the dinner, I'm wondering if I can think of a reason to cancel...

Brittany said...

But you write books. So the rest doesn't matter. And, I'm coming over.

Steph @ Diapers and Divinity said...

I'm not buying it at all.

I mean I totally believe that your house (and 90% of all other homes with small children that have not been "prepped" for visitors) really does look like that,

but that it equals underachievement?...

No way.
Sorry, nice try though. :)

Cheeseboy said...

I would stop by, but that would require actually achieving something.

Alisa said...

I thought I was the only one. The sad thing is I have an overachiever husband who I am constantly disappointing. They say opposites attract but they never tell you how they live together afterwards.

Becca said...

Blogger hates me. Again. I tried to leave a witty comment yesterday, which was apparently eaten. And now it's forgotten in the 4 loads of laundry I did manage to handle yesterday.

Just write books and forget about the cockroaches and cookie crumbs.

wendy said...

Well........if you Can't overachieve.
to heck with it
be the best underachiever you can.

No one comes and visits me at my house, soooooooooooo
I have a hard time feeling inspired to get things done.
And, it's not due to the we will only reach a whoping 64 today.

Karen Peterson said...

I hate to have to be the one to tell you this, but I am, in fact, leaps and bounds ahead of you in the underachieving department. I haven't done anything productive in at least a week and I'm fairly certain it's been even longer. It's 4pm on Saturday and I'm still in bed. Not still in my pajamas. Not sitting around in front of the TV. I'm very literally STILL IN BED.

And I'm not even sick.