There are somethings in life that just elude me. I have come to accept the fact that large water bodies and I do not get along. If I accidentally find myself in one, I will sink. Never mind what the laws of phsyics and the swimming instructor have to say on the matter. I will not float, I do not float. I will sunk to the bottom of the pool like a sack of potatoes and horrible, salty, hyper chlorinated water will enter my orifices and make me rather unhappy. I do understand that this inability to prosper and propel forward in all masses aquatic might become a question of life or death someday, but for now its just means that I am not too enthusiastic about heading to the beach. I can live with that.
Then there is the matter of card games. I don't get it. I simply cannot remember how a deck of cards is organised. I was the kid who could never figure out the solution to all those pesky probability problems involving cards. Luckily, Probability 101 is long gone and the way I look at it...what are the chances that my survival might depend on my ability to know a queen of something from a jack of something else? Not much, right. Unless I suddenly head off to Reno for a life of reckless gambling. And the probability of that happening is infinitesimal compared to the probability of me unexpectedly taking off for Ocean City. So there...peace.
But my absolute lack of understanding of timesheets does bung a spanner into my life every other week. I am the bane of all office managers and HR people. I am the person who has at least one mistake in her timecard, everytime-without fail. And if I am really, really good then it will be months before the bean counters in a distant office figure out that I have used the wrong billing codes for months!! Audits will be done and long letters will have to be written and signed before every wrongfully assigned penny is sent to its proper electronic ledger. However, unlike the previous can't dos which I have made peace with, I still have hope for my timecards.