When God was handing out talent and good looks, I’m pretty sure I got skipped.
…well, wait. Saying I got skipped makes me sound like a victim. In all honesty, I probably snuck back to the kitchen to get snacks.
Me (whispering to the guy next to me): “Dude. This is taking forever. BRB, I need a cookie.”
Being passed over is the most straightforward explanation I can think of for my ordinary, sub-standard existence. I’m sure I have zero talent and meager looks because both were given from what was left, scraped out of the bottom of the pot.
I can see it in my head.
God (to the last dude in line, the one who held my place as I snuck to the kitchen): “And for you, the last of your batch, I bestow upon you the final bit of TALENT and BEAUTY for this round of blessings.”
*does double take*
*notices me standing where I wasn’t before, chewing with bulging cheeks and a cookie crumb face*
God (blankly): “Oh. Ummm….. I missed one.”
*looks into empty pot*
*looks at used blessing spatula*
Gabriel: “Father, it won’t take long to mak-“
God: “NOPE, I GOT THIS.”
*slaps spatula onto my forehead with a long, downward drag*
God: “That’ll do.”
*grips empty pot and spatula with clenched fists*
*thundery air punch*
*turns to angel recording notes*
God: “DONE. IT’S MILLER TIME.”
Short changed, and probably my fault. Like a cosmic “…meh,” I exist as a talentless and ugly person. I have felt that way almost my whole life.
I also know I’m not the only one that feels that way. You’ve probably felt that way, too, at least once in your life.