I am Kristin Billerbeck and I am a perfectionist. Okay, not in areas that would actually help me (like worrying about a clean house, or baking the perfect Mom cookies) No, I am a perfectionist of the worst sort. I never do things "right" and then I tend to beat myself up about it. For example, I bought this gorgeous Persian rug on Tuesday. I LOVE it, but it doesn't have the right colors in it, and I had to take down the painting, and I'll have to make other changes to the room because the rug isn't "right". Which automatically makes other things "wrong".
So I either live with the changes, or I admit I did it "wrong" and take it back. Which is probably what I should do, but like a child I've become attached to the beauty of the rug, and now my mind goes back and forth. The rug is wrong. The rug is beautiful. How can I full enjoy the rug with this brain of mine? And is life ever really perfect? Granted, the rug is a symptom of a bigger issue, but there it is.