Fact: I am horrible at math.

I’ve mentioned here how in college I got 17% on a math midterm and my teacher wrote “good improvement” on my exam, because it was.

I was always told that if I tried harder, studied longer, asked more questions, that I would improve. So I tried. I sat in the front row, never missed a class, had tutors and a calculator so complex I’m sure I could have used it to beam aboard the Endeavour spacecraft.

And I still failed.

Because I’m just not the  girl who can do long division in her head without looking like she’s in physical pain.

I’m also not the girl who remembers to pick up her dry cleaning on time. I’m not the girl who can eat spaghetti without spilling it, nor am I the girl who can build a bookcase without have at least 7 leftover parts.  I’m not the girl who can cook lobster to perfection, hit a baseball out of the park or sew anything more complicated than a straight line.

I’m not a girl who is able to quit a job without feeling like she failed. I’m not a girl who is able to bite her tongue when she’s mad,  remember an umbrella when it looks like rain or can stop from crying at a wedding.

No matter how hard I tried to become her, the girl I’m not is the girl I will never be. And I’m okay with that. Because sometimes knowing what you can’t do- what you will never do, what you don’t want to do,  allows you to appreciate everything you can do, and everything you are. Because what I see now is when I add up all the things I’m not, they will never measure who I am.

I’m still bad at math, the only difference is that I can now fully appreciate how excellent I am at so much else. I may not be able to do long division in my head but I can give a goodbye toast that will knock your socks off. I can’t multiply by 13 in rapid fire, but I can ride a horse, write a play, make the best chicken tetrazzini you will ever have. I can’t recite pi to 14 places (only 12, and this was learned only out of boredom) but I can spend an entire day with 34 kids who all want to be pirates and not kill myself, in fact- I will enjoy myself.

I’m not a girl who can apply the mathematical “FOIL” rule as quickly as others, but I can drive a tractor in tall girl shoes.

And that seems like a good improvement.

Update #1: The lovely (and always observant Annie) just emailed me asking if this was my “lame attempt to make myself feel better since I’m a loser who doesn’t have a job”, and in a short, yes Annie it is.  You seem to know me so well, quick what number am I thinking of right now?

Update #2: I’ve now been on hold for 34 minutes with the devil Telus phone company. I have been put on hold and then forced to listen to that song that references Tyson Beckford and Robert Redford. Those who know me well, know that this scenario is my own personal hell. Only yesterday my lovely friend D-Kat and I were discussing our rage for the devil Telus phone company and the phrase ” you should red flag me, I’m hostile” was discussed as the sentence we would be most likely to say if ever forced to talk to a devil Telus operator. I’m getting worried that as my rage builds (and the songs worsen), this idea of what to say will become a reality and I will make a young operator named Sheila cry because I have had such poor service with the devil Telus phone company. Oh sweet Jesus. Now they are playing Wham!. I need a drink.