There's a saying that I run across from time-to-time that says, "If you want something done, ask a busy person.” Sometimes when I hear this I can't help but chuckle to myself. Lately, it seems like I have too much on my plate to handle anything else. But then there are days where I have nothing to do -- and couldn't imagine taking anything on because I like enjoying my downtime.
I have come to realize that I'm one of those who, when faced with a full plate, push it all away and sit like a four year old who refuses to touch their peas. Instead of attempting to accomplish as much as I can to the best of my ability, I sit there, arms crossed, pouting. If I can't do it all and do it all perfectly, then I want nothing to do with it. If I can't make a decision knowing that it's exactly what I want, I'd rather not make one at all.
It's a horrible downfall, but I can't say I wasn't warned. My mother, who bestowed this tid-bit on me awhile back, said that my fourth grade teacher had warned her it could happen. How I was such a perfectionist that, while it labeled me "gifted and talented" in grade school, would one day lead to my demise if I didn't learn that not everything had to be perfect. I spent too much time worrying about if one thing was done perfectly than trying to accomplish more and do it well.
She actually told my mother I would learn the hard lesson for myself in college. She was right.
And now, I'm trying to retrain my way of thinking. I have to. And it's HARD. My rationale disrupts my work day, plays a role in delaying decisions and keeps my mind in disarray. It's the reason I still have a huge box of photos that haven't made it into scrapbooks, why my walls in the house are still white, why I've been searching for weeks for a new pair of brown heels.
And I am by no means saying that I'm perfect. Believe me, I’m not. More like I think things must be perfect, that I must make the perfect decisions -- otherwise I'd rather just not do anything. Maybe it's a fear of failing (but I've been there) or just a fear of someone not liking what I put my heart and soul into.
Sometimes I feel like a Pollock painting -- perfectly chaotic ...