I'm very good at doing everything. And that's one of my problems. I can do just about anything at least semi-competently. But I don't really have one clear talent which towers above the rest. I can conform to most people's styles when I play a guitar or electric bass, but I can't write great music of my own. I used to write gloomy, hopeless poetry, but haven't really done that for several years.
Actually, come up to my bedroom, and I'll show you what I'm good at....
First, we must be quiet, as my brother already went to bed. So that means it will be dark, too. But if I turned the light on, you'd notice that I have my clothes piled up about the room. There's too much junk and books in the drawers. And you also won't notice the 3-foot high stack of books on my dresser, but you wouldn't care too much for them anyway. Mostly World War II and roleplaying game books.
So follow me over to the edge of the bed, will you? Now turn around and carefully sit down on the bottom bunk. While you're at it, drop your shorts as your sitting down; that's usually what I do. Then I take off my shirt and place it on top of my shorts.
But now you'll have to move, since I need to lay down. I don't know where you'll go, or what you'll do, but this bed ain't big enough for the two of us. Once you're off my mattress I'll half roll over onto my stomach. I'll take off my watch and glasses, and put them just under the edge of the bed; the watch always goes on the outside since I won't care as much if that gets stepped on. Then I put on my Burt's Bees chapstick, roll over, cover up, and let sleep take me away.
I don't know what you were expecting to do in my bedroom, but
I go there to sleep!
