The Imperfect Perfectionist




186. The number of steps it takes from my bed to my car in the morning. If I mess up, I have to start over or I can’t get through the day. I’ve started over 79 times now, which is insane. 79 is an uneven number, which I just can’t stand. I’ll have to mess up my steps tomorrow just so I’ve started over 80 times; but if I mess up my steps than the entire day is ruined. My life is chaos. People ask me my name and I have a panic attack because my name is Steve, a five letter word and uneven. Steven Dunbar, eleven letters, I could pull my hair out. I try to add my middle initial but then I’m left with a period in my name. A period I have to say when people ask for my name. Now I’ve gone from Steve to Steve J period Dunbar. At least it’s an even number of letters. But that’s not my name. Work is hell. There are 253 cubicles in the building where I work, so naturally it takes me 45 minutes to get the courage to walk into the door. 253. 253. 253 divided by 2 is 126.5. why couldn’t they take a desk away, or even fire someone? Just thinking about it causes me to have a panic attack period, you might wonder why I said the Period instead of typing it but “anxiety attack” is only 13 letters and if I left it like that I’d have to rewrite everything. It takes me exactly one hour to get to sleep at night after folding my blanket 44 times to get that perfect crease. But I’ve done It 279 times now…There’s no perfect for a perfectionist.