I find it oddly satisfying and deeply disturbing to be a perfectionist.
Let me explain…
Being a perfectionist is a life where everything is an oxymoron. If there was a speech I had to give, as a perfectionist I would be delighted that I practiced and delivered it brilliantly. But I would also be distraught 2 hours later, because there is this one sentence I could have tweaked to have had a better impact.
It’s worse when you expect perfection from others. Then, you just become moron in their eyes. I don’t understand why you cannot understand why doing something in a good way is not good enough. The other day, I was editing an article my brother had written. I was impressed, it was good. And then, I saw it.
“After I opened the door,I saw a blue light in the corner.”
Did you see it? No? This is how it should have been written-
“After I opened the door, I saw a blue light in the corner.”
That’s right! A “space” matters! Sadly, my brother didn’t agree. A shouting match ensued. Considerable damage was done. All of which could have been avoided. Tch.
I’m speaking for every perfectionist out there. Yes, it matters that things are exactly as it should be. Which means where there should be order, there should be order. And where chaos is the order, there should be chaos in an orderly fashion. It’s what makes life livable. For us, and for you.
Trust me, you do not want to run into us after you have made something just “good enough”.
(You might find this post edited after a few hours/days. Keep checking. Unlike other things, I CAN redo a blog post.)