The blog community is an fascinating web of creatives, all expressing themselves in their own way. It’s easy to lose an hour (or an afternoon) clicking around, reading posts on everything from travel to parenting to pets and much, much more. I’ve read work from people across the country and around the globe on an incredible platform that introduces me to ideas and perspectives I might never have known.
While I’m all about “I am woman, hear me roar” and want to believe I can do anything I set my mind to, the realist in me knows certain things are simply out of reach.
I can’t read in a moving vehicle.
This one is a real shame. I remember spending many a childhood car trip with my nose buried deep in a book, oblivious to the endless hours crammed in the back seat. I’d finish entire novels as we travelled the highways, happy as a clam, never hitting that restless crazy state I find myself in now after two hours in the car. I really miss that escape.
I can’t deal with snakes.
Like, at all. This wasn’t a significant issue for most of my life – it was more an abstract, wow-they-give-me-the-willies sort of feeling for many years. But now? Well, now we live here.
I’ve embraced country life (though BrightSide would probably laugh at the description of our neighborhood as “country”). It’s beautiful here. Peaceful. You can see an astounding number of stars at night. But living on property that borders a field and trees leads to encounters with field mice, spiders, and (shudder) snakes. The field mice are startling. Depending on size, the spiders range from unremarkable to holy crap, what IS that thing?
But the snakes? Short ones, long ones, skinny ones, fat ones, any damn color of the rainbow – they all freak me out. Completely. Of course, this little encounter from last spring didn’t help much.
I can’t run a marathon.
Okay, okay…maybe if I hit the gym this could change. No one’s actually born running marathons, but my natural gift lies more in speed than endurance. Sprints and relay races were my favorite events in high school. I loved coming out of the blocks, the burst of acceleration, the way my lungs opened up and arms pumped when I hit my stride. Everything about it felt free. Long distance running? That was more of a feet thumping, heart thudding, how-much-longer-do-I-have-to-do-this-without-throwing-up activity. So marathons? Not so much.
I can’t find any tolerance in my heart for people who hurt children and animals.
Seriously, I just can’t. I’m paying attention in church with the “Who are you to judge your neighbors” and “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” I also hear “Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good” and messages about the sanctity of children. But most of all I know what’s in my heart: that children and animals are the most defenseless among us, and I firmly believe there’s a special place in hell reserved for those who harm them.
I can’t stand feeling trapped, especially in small, dark, or enclosed spaces.
Here’s a look inside my head if something like this inadvertently happens: Oh-my-god-what-am-I-doing-here?! It’s too small/dark/tiny/horrifying in every way imaginable and now I’m freaking out. Can’t. Breathe. Okay, it’s okay, you can do this. What are you, crazy? YOU CAN’T DO THIS. I have to get out I have to get out I have to get out of here RIGHT THIS EFFING MINUTE.
So, care to share? What’s something that you can’t do?