It's not like I'm a neat freak or have some form of OCD.
It's just when I decide to get bothered about something I will tweak and tweak and tweak until I hate the thing I'm working on.
It never looks right.
I also have this problem of underestimation where in my mind I believe with every fibre in my being that carrying out a particular task is a piece of cake.
It IS a piece of cake. But it will take me longer than a piece of cake should.
Thing is when said thing doesn't look right I will worry and worry and worry while tweaking and tweaking and tweaking until I'm exhausted.
And then I get up and do it and it's a piece of cake like I originally thought.
Which is annoying simply because time has been wasted.
Or has it?
Here's the thing, fellow perfectionists: what if Time was waiting for us to catch up?
What if before it wasn't the right time for the thing to be perfect?
Think of it like growing up:
like how at one point in your life you're unable to comprehend certain things and then you get to a certain age and you understand.
That middle point between not comprehending/not being perfect and comprehending/being perfect: it's incredibly significant.
I'm not just crapping out my mouth by the way. I've noticed this change from imperfect to perfect twice now but never the transission (I've suffered the resulting depression, though, trust).
It's not like I'm a neat freak or have some form of OCD.
It's just when I decide to get bothered about something I will tweak and tweak and tweak until I hate the thing I'm working on.
It never looks right.
I also have this problem of underestimation where in my mind I believe with every fibre in my being that carrying out a particular task is a piece of cake.
It IS a piece of cake. But it will take me longer than a piece of cake should.
Thing is when said thing doesn't look right I will worry and worry and worry while tweaking and tweaking and tweaking until I'm exhausted.
And then I get up and do it and it's a piece of cake like I originally thought.
Which is annoying simply because time has been wasted.
Or has it?
Here's the thing, fellow perfectionists: what if Time was waiting for us to catch up?
What if before it wasn't the right time for the thing to be perfect?
Think of it like growing up:
like how at one point in your life you're unable to comprehend certain things and then you get to a certain age and you understand.
That middle point between not comprehending/not being perfect and comprehending/being perfect: it's incredibly significant.
I'm not just crapping out my mouth by the way. I've noticed this change from imperfect to perfect twice now but never the transission (I've suffered the resulting depression, though, trust).
Anyone else have any thoughts?