Among the many things I am terrible at, giftwrapping is one of the most trivial, but it is vexing. I don't make it easy on myself either, trying to wrap things on my lap or on the sofa cushion instead of a clean hard flat surface. One needs a good work surface, this is one of life's simplest lessons. Could I use more tape? I don't think so. Am I seriously trying to pass that off as a straight cut? Maybe in Wavyland they'd accept that, but not where I'm sitting. I need left-handed scissors. I should buy only books or cube-shaped things for people, those I can handle. These badly-wrapped packages could be evidence of something disordered and messy in my character. Such half-assed efforts surely reflect poorly on me.

One of my exes could wrap gifts beautifully, what a touch. He picked it up from his grandmother, I guess while all the normal boys were out playing team sports. He could wrap anything in no time, with no tape or so little you couldn't tell, and he could create magic with ribbon, how it would caper and cascade along the tautly-wrapped gift surface. His cards were handmade, even the little tag on the gift featured hand-drawn elements. Compare that to what I've just done, which looks like someone had a grand mal seizure at the Hallmark store. These gifts look like the inside of the plastic garbage bag full of used wadded and torn giftwrap after the presents have been opened. I always hated that bag growing up, the sight of it made me feel empty and depressed. I'd take my presents to my room and close the door, not emerging until the living room was cleaned up and it was like it all never happened. I have a problem with hollow aftermaths.