Freelance Retort: Perfect Imperfection

It’s difficult being a perfectionist.

So I usually don’t even try.

I leave that to the more neurotic among you, out there…although I have to believe if you’re reading this…well, need I say more.

Probably not, but then all the perfectionists will start complaining that I didn’t tap out an appropriate amount of words to suit your perfect needs.

So I’ll keep on writing...although, as I said….

Driving you crazy, huh?

Sorry….

The truth is—and again we all know, truth is relative, and hardly perfect, much like my favorite relative, Uncle Clarence, who still insists, to this day, he thought those were really shoes—that the thing I’m most perfect at, is being imperfect.

Probably most of us are.

Even the perfectionists…in fact, most certainly the perfectionists.

That’s why they try so hard.

If you’d like an imperfect fried egg…I’m your guy.

No problem.

Broken yolks, burnt whites…to perfection.

Want your steak cooked perfectly rare…you got it…a long as you don’t mind medium.

My perfect paint job in the living room is kind of neat, as long as you don’t mind those splotches on the woodwork…and the little white dots on the carpet…and yeah…that was a brand new pair of jeans.

Want that nasty red wine stain out of your favorite white shirt…not a big deal.  I can get it mostly out and the rest of it will just fade, over time, and besides you’ll probably get used to it soon, anyway

Of course, as you’d expect, the perfectionists will have a hard time dealing with….

For the rest of the story, or to just kill a couple of more minutes while you're dotting your i's and crossing your t's, please Click Here....

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