The joys of being uncoordinated.

Ever since I can remember, I've been pathetically uncoordinated, making me elephantine more than just aesthetically. When I was three, my mum tried to teach me how to throw a ball with the reward of an icy-pole when we managed to throw it back and forth twenty times. It was big and bright pink and slightly pearlescent, so you would think that I would try my hardest to catch it- in fact I did try very hard, but that didn't change the fact that I couldn't catch it. And when I managed to catch it, I was terrible at trying to throw it. Consequently, I got very few icy-poles.

My clumsiness didn't disappear throughout childhood- I reluctantly endured the travails of sport classes in primary school and the first few years of high school with consistent incompetence. Every single year on my primary school report, the sport teacher would write that I would benefit from lessons outside of school because I was struggling so much. That's how bad I was- needing a tutor for sport! Like I would want to subject myself to even more torture!!!

Despite an deeply ingrained love of Adidas sportswear, I've accepted that I am unconditionally maladroit when it comes to anything requiring coordination. That's why it's so exciting that I managed to throw a balled up piece of aluminium foil into the bin yesterday at school, from a distance of two whole metres (or something like that). Since I am so unadept at throwing, upon my successful throw, the whole little circle (of five or six nerds) applauded. That just illustrates how much of a rarity it is.

And that is why yesterday was the most exciting day of my life.