If there was a test that you had to write to become an adult, I would fail. I would fail miserably.
I have never roasted anything in my life.
I don’t own a roasting tray or a casserole dish or a blender.
I only just learnt today that I’ve been spelling ‘manoeuver’ wrong my entire life.
I’m pretty sure my wiper blades need replacing but I don’t know how to tell for sure or where to go to get new ones.
I know the theory behind changing a tyre but I’ve never actually done it. I’ve never put in my own petrol or checked my oil or topped up my water.
It’s tax season and I have absolutely no clue how that affects me and what I should be doing about it. I don’t keep any slips or doctors bills or pharmacy receipts.
The more I try clean the kitchen tiles, the dirtier they get. The inventor of the mop did a shitty job.
Don’t eat olives.
Do eat hot dogs. Preferably with the cheap t-sauce from Wimpy.
The same stuffed pony has been on my bed since I was four, in five different homes. Including res and digs.
But in my defense, I did manage to set up a Pinterest feed on a free WordPress.com blog when everyone said it was impossible and I will out-park you everytime.
Alley Dock Champ.
Master of the Impossibly Small Space.
I am legend.