I was out to lunch with my dance friends on Saturday and the conversation turned to our daily difficulties. One woman claimed she struggles with spelling. Horrifically, she mentioned. Another also struggles with spelling but doesn't know it. I know because she published a book on Amazon and I bought it.
One can't write.
Another hates to read.
I struggle with time and space, I announced. They looked at me like I'd just teleported from another galaxy. "Like Star Trek?"
No, like I can't judge space like a normal person. I'll be trying to find a parking spot and find the teensiest one and attempt to park the car. Scott will tell me "You won't fit, you won't fit," and I will pay him no mind. Of course I'll fit. I can park the car in the smallest of spaces after much back and forth and then announce, "Yep. It's too small." He just rolls his eyes.
One day a woman waited for me in her car outside of Target until I returned from my shopping and claimed my van. She approached my window and berated my parking, explaining how my poor parking makes it difficult for others to park or pull out. She was speaking to me as if I had control over this aspect. I do not.
Then there's the issue of time. I can tell time, I simply can't judge time. I will always be late. I believe I can do just one more thing. That morning, for instance, I had finished my shower and realized the bathtub floor was a little slippery. I took my used towel and rubbed it all over the tub and the sides. Since I'd already used the towel for cleaning, I went ahead and got out the cleaner and sprayed the counter and the outside of the toilet, then wiped them all down with the towel. I stepped out of the bathroom and stumbled on a basket full of clean laundry. They were mostly towels and since I'd just used my own for cleaning, I could easily fold the towels, take one for myself and put the rest away. But that's when I heard the scream.
I'd misjudged time and my teenage boy had come home from his basketball game and wandered down the hall. I forgot to mention that I was still naked.
And I suffer from the good sense to close the door.