If life was a talent show, I’d be voted off already…

This ain't me, folks. Really.

A thought came to me while I was on one of my evening jogs. (I was thinking so much that I almost fell into a drain. I fell nonetheless.):

What are my talents?

Hmm, let’s see, shall we? Is digging my nose to uncover green gems of gloop whilst typing out an SMS considered a talent worth bragging about? On second thought, I don’t think I want to list that when I go to an interview. I can burp the ABCs but normally by the time I reach M I’m slightly out of saliva. I can come up with the most inane conversation starters but the time I reach the middle it gets lame.

I’m not so sure myself. I can barely play the guitar. I find it difficult trying to hit shuttlecocks going at speeds even tortoises would laugh at me (if they had a sense of humour and a funny shell, get it? shell? hehe). My running skills are only feasible for five minutes and after that I’ll just pass out from embarrassment. My computer skills are limited to the things I know which aren’t much to begin with. I try to read five books at a time but I end up getting a headache from trying too hard to follow just one. My cooking skills are excellent provided I don’t cook in the first place. I try to sound all-knowing and burly but in the end I come out as slightly cocky and very cheesy nerd.

So what is my claim to fame? What makes Chris stand out from a crowd of talented, multi-talented, super-talented people? The answer is simple:

By being me, I guess.

I think that pretty much sums up everything.

Here’s something I wrote during my five-week course that I somehow forgot to include previously:

Wow.

The third week of my not-really-5-week course is now over. Just slightly over a month ago, I was busy doing nothing. I’m so preoccupied that I even forget to shave. My beard. No funny thoughts. The last two weekends just blitzed by like a, um, blizzard. And the next two will be no different. In fact, they’re going to go by so fast, I’ll have a beard of epic proportions by the time I get to the exam room (no hall, since the organisers are cheapskates).

Mr. Overachiever, who, henceforth shall be known simply as Bloody Idiot, confuses my confused face with my I’m-thinking-but-it-looks-like-I’m-confused face. He’s a nice guy; humorous (he laughs at his own little jokes) but his thick accent makes the jokes sound like a fish trying to spew water out from its mouth. But get him into a classroom, and he’ll transform into a 12-year-old with a beard of epic proportions. Nasty.

I’d like to think I’m one of those guys who can multi-task. You know, for instance, brushing my teeth and headbanging. That kind of thing. The last three weeks have been anything but.

Shucks. I have to go now. I have a course to finish.

And on a much happier note, I’d like to announce that I start my new job next week, Monday! While the job is somewhat dissimilar in area from the course that I took, nevertheless, it’s still under the same scope. I’m excited as can be, so much so I’m planning to get myself a new pair of trousers. Yes, trousers!

Till the next time, take care y’all.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: Oh, and if I were to quit in two weeks, well, you know where to find me.