I’m good at arranging Hanukkah candle colors.
I am good at faking my own death. Also at faking my own life.
I’m good at discussing the season’s literary sensation without having read it.
I’m good at being there when you don’t need me, and not being there when you do.
I’m good at knowing when the blankets are heavy enough to absorb farts so they won’t be noticed, or else I’m really good at sleeping with people too polite to say anything when I fart in bed.
I’m good at upselling myself.
I’m good at doing all my holiday gift shopping at the drug store. In one trip. In one aisle.
I’m good at knowing when to say monies instead of money.
I’m good at finding my bank account’s routing number.
I’m good at disposing of batteries improperly.
I’m good at checking little things off my to-do list when I have a really big project I should be working on instead.
I’m good at knowing if an SNL sketch is going to be funny or not in the first .4 seconds.
I’m good at amassing patriotic wet-naps.
I’m good at betting on the wrong Kickstarter projects.
I’m good not acknowledging sports teams that came into existence after I turned fifteen.