On being utterly incompetent

There are certain things I simply don't get.

This goes beyond the ordinary complaints about why women are allowed to do anything but have children, or why euthanasia and abortion aren't made into mandated practices for certain (most) individuals and circumstances. It's actually a good deal more frustrating than all that.

Every morning, as I don the costume of one who's succumbed to the dull practices of corporate American life, a few things cross my mind.  The first being, of course, "Why?" -- why what? -- why everything. The second, "After I figure out how to put this tie on, I'm going to learn to tie a proper sailor's knot, so I can hang myself in some construction yard." The third comes more in the form of -- not so much a realization as a general...habit of sorts. I open my laptop, go to YouTube and, as I do every morning, follow a tutorial on how to tie a half-windsor.

Every morning.

It donned as me, as I was laying long strips of toilet paper across the toilet seat, that I also had no idea how to work the toilet seat covers you find in so many restaurants and, as it was in this case, airports. It's not that I haven't tried. Quite in fact, I've tried any number of times -- to horrid and discouraging effect. Either the little flap down the center (am I supposed to tear that off? -- what do I do with that?) droops into the water and gets sucked in before I get my cheeks to the seat, or -- well, something -- something else happens.

Point is, it's never been pretty.

And the other point is, something must be wrong with me. 

Even after dozens of repetitions, I simply cannot process certain things and actions -- not even those which require the most rude of our wide arsenal of motor skills. 

People like to come up with all manner of excuses for their shortcomings. Like "big-boned" people, people who are "just too creative to think like that," or people who, you know, "need" marijuana to sleep.

I'm just going to accept it for what it is, though.

I must be retarded. And if there were a line for an extermination camp-styled facility, you'd better believe I'd be right up front.