No one has ever accused me of being a perfectionist. My mother had perfectionist tendencies and I try so hard to be like her. But even when I believe I’ve dotted every i and crossed every t, a few will rear their undotted and uncrossed heads and I’ll realize I’ve fallen short again.
This is one reason why I’ll never be tempted into a life of crime. I know I’d never be able to pull off the perfect heist. I’d be the thief who’d leave a business card with my name, phone number, and address at the scene of the crime—probably with a map and bright red x to mark the spot. I’d use fingerless gloves and my prints would show up all over the place.
Is there a MasterClass in the art of perfection? if so, I’d likely screw up the instructions. Pour me a beer; I’m feeling inadequate tonight. #Revising