Not so good at anything.

Whenever  anyone has ever asked me what im good at, I have never come up with a solid, definitive answer. All in all,  I think I'm only good at contracting contagious diseases from grubby children, and inconsiderate and equally grubby adults.
"Well what do you like to do?"
*Binge eat and binge watch Korean dramas or full seasons of shows I never got to watch when they were popular
*Give my cats some gato crack.
*Online window shop
*Google random questions -
ex. "How do you.. "  and then get sidetracked looking up whats suggested.
  That answer, as true as it may be, doesn't really make me feel great.
Reality sets in, especially in group conversation,  which should be a special skill and talent on its own. This socially awkward penguin thinks it should be worth at least a trophy, or trinket to be fully socially functional without scaring anyone away or giving off second hand embarrassment.

A n y w a y...

  I'm a closet cry baby, I'm clumsy,  scatterbrained , usually asleep, and I tend to talk a big game when I'm pissed off only to end it with "Yeah I probably won't do any of that. "

So, here is to all the things I've tried and failed at, but will continue to pursue. We do things that interest us, and make us happy, not necessarily because we are good at them.

And because some people,  might be going through their 20-something panic years and this is my way of avoiding a pre midlife crisis. 

Nice balls, are they new?

Do people just go around hating life?  Look, my deepest empathy goes out to you;  I'm sure it isn't easy having three baby mamas, or that your daughter got a classy neck tattoo to go along with her teen mom image, or whatever you're pissed off about.  Tell me, Why is the guy that needed a new kidney happier and nicer than you?  Yeah I don't know either,  and in case you're wondering,  no he's not dead,  Yes he got a new kidney. 
I like to laugh.  I have enough problems without having to dwell on them and let them ruin my day. All day, every day.
F o r e v e r! 
Plus mean people age terribly and Im not even about to have adult acne AND wrinkles. Then I would absolutely hate life and try to suffocate in a bag of chips. 

Back to Basics

There's a few things I've been working on in between being at work and being asleep. Advice from a friend was to write every day. Probably best simplest advice I've been given about something I've always had a passion for. I feel as though some posts should and will be kept private due to subject matter I'm not ready to share with everyone. But I will at least write something. Every day.
That aside, writing in general has always been something I want to do. I may not be incredibly clever, or profound, or have the vast knowledge of any particular subject, or confidence of a Greek god of blogging...was this a pep talk?
I'm quite rusty to boot. I have to favorite my favorite words on my dictionary app because not only do I not get a chance to use my former extended vocabulary, but these days I can't remember much. Some days, I'm surprised I remember how to use the microwave. And shoes.
I'm more or less confident that the (at least) four people I know are mildly enthused to read my contingent occurrences, so at least clicky click some kudos for me or write a comment/criticism here. It would be super encouraging.

Here's a bonus cat picture :D

I don't like you Part 2

Illiteracy is a big issue with me, considering I can't spell very well, I understand it's kind of hypocritical. I can admit that. Now, as much as people complain they can't understand my English speaking challenged co-workers, I must say the complainers aren't very good at speaking the ONLY language they know. I get second hand embarrassment all the time when I repeat an order only to be corrected.

Me: okay, donut hole(s) and a cinnamon roll?

trailer trash tina: NO donut hoe and cinnamon ROW!

Please go put shoes on your baby and start watching those nick jr. shows. You might just learn all the letters of the alphabet, there's lots of bright colors, songs, and puzzles, you'll have so much fun you won't even realize some of your brain synapses are awakening. Plus, if it scares you too much, you can always kill them with Mountain Dew.

I can't stress how much I get corrected on the two words "roll" and "hole(s)" the "s" is always optional.

I don't like you Part 1

Hello. I help create donuts. I put icing on those hot bitches, I fill them with jelly/filling, I even arrange them to be fried into delicious bite size pieces while they're still dough babies. Unfortunately, my job is not so important or entirely time consuming that I get to hide away from the customers and cash register. Which I don't mind, usually. I enjoy running around with my head cut off needing to be in two places at once. Time flies and it's not boring. I DO however mind the customers.

"But Zee, those people make your boss money, in turn making you money"

Of course they do and the ones that are literate, can count, can pronounce words properly, aren't low talkers, and can process their own thoughts before speaking, I actually like.

If I know you are of the following variety of customer, I will probably make fun of you within earshot.

The wake and baker

:This breed of customer is either really old and tweeking or really young and higher than a kite. Now the tweekers get upset for waiting even though they're counting out $3 in pennies for 6 minutes then realize they have money in their crotch or titty area. It's always moist.
The younger breed who chose the natural drugs take forever to order at 5 am. After sitting in the drive through since before I got there (4:45) And it gets better the last kids I took orders from went like this


kid: uh...um....::blank stare::

me: ::blank stare::

kid: you um uh..::blank stare::

me: No donuts, just kolaches right now. Wanna wait? 10 mins.

kid:: uh...no yeah kolache

me: what kind?

kid: ::blank stare::

Me: sausage and cheese? okay how many?

kid: one


Exactly 6 minutes had passed. I have other things to do. But wait there's more!
I left this guy counting his money since he was taking forever, come back after doing other stuff like making coffee and making sure I had enough time to do my icing in the back and he's still counting $1.20, but his mind overcomes the challenge somehow, and I hand him his stuff and his friend says he needs one too. Same exact process as above. It was almost exactly the same except 4 minutes this time. I know because I am staring at my phone wondering how the hell am I supposed to get donuts ready since no one else is here yet.
And yet it still gets better, I return with second kids kolache and then the drink request ensues. Same process and it is way too early for me to be so pissed off. After the second drink I have maybe two minutes before I have to go ice some donuts. But no, the donut request ensues with the dreaded question

kid: what kinda donuts you got


me: glazed (1 minute left)

kid: can I get like uh...um...::blank stare::

me: yeah

kid: what?

me: you said half dozen right? $3.30

kid: uh yeah


and that's how I had enough time to make donuts and sell. I hate you if you're high and buy donuts from me and I will persuade your order to get rid of you. I'm almost certain this is exactly what Jedi mind tricking someone feels like.

Being Poor.

Being bored and being poor are two dangerous things that should never be combined by a young person in their 20's. Being bored means starting to watch cat videos on YouTube and ending at white people singing to Korean boy bands. That aside, I would like some extra cash and I have devised two semi-solid plans.

Plan 1: Whore out my male neighbors/friends and split the profit.
Pros: Sex=easy money
Cons: Women don't usually buy sex from males that don't look like Photoshopped models. And the ones that would are probably so old they'd break a hip, thus ending up in a lawsuit. I can't afford a lawyer and I definitely cannot afford to be some manlike females bitch. Also, finding a demographic on Craigslist could end up in someone being killed and having their body parts put on the black market. I can't be held responsible for such things.

Plan 2: Write a trashy slutty romance novel. Given my mediocre literary talent and my ability to use grade school punctuation, I feel this is the best bet. I am currently in the process of compiling a team of "experts" to help me write things that would otherwise make me laugh or contract second hand embarrassment.
And by experts, I mean creative people(my sister, who can apparently find 10 synonyms for penis) and dirty male perverts(my friends/neighbors)because they're...dirty male perverts.

I'm afraid to do research on this endeavor without putting my Google safe search on and even then I'm afraid of what could come up. But I have braved enough to know where to get started, but I wonder if in a week I'll be writing something that would bring embarrassment and dishonor to my family, ya know, like Mulan. Or if I'll be on another scheme to find a way to get some legs, like Ariel.

But instead of legs I meant money.

...soup.

Fucking soup.
Now, you may have your opinions or beliefs that soup is a legit food, but to some people,(and by some people, I mean myself) it's a poor excuse for a meal. Literally, soup is only okay when you're poor, can't eat solid real food, or are sick. Soup is just flavored water with various viscosity (wrong word usage? Suck it.) Soup leaves me hungry, usually tastes bad hot/warm/cold and makes me completely pissed off there's no real food involved and I will more than likely have to make a meal of bread.

sidenote:stew and pho are legit forms of food that happen to have soup/broth in them, not the crappy un-fulfilling asshole of a food with tiny rice or tiny baby noodle and a shit ton of flavored water. Did I mention chunks of meat?
Nothing makes soup a real food like various chunks of meat