Cause you know, no one is perfect. But I really, really wish I was. If I was perfect I would have been able to manage my time well enough to get a blog post up for yesterday. Instead, I have a weekend treat for you guys about my need for perfection and struggle with anxiety. Fun, right? 🙂
This might sound a bit crazy, mostly because I am, but many times my writing is therapeutic and frankly, this post is so honest it should write itself. You see, my need for perfection is about more than one lousy deadline missed, it’s about every day of my life, trying to get everything done at once, trying to be everything to everyone, attempting to never fall behind, EVER. I crave order, stability, structure and a good schedule more than anything. The problem is when one little thing gets out of whack I can’t seem to handle it.
Thursday night I was exhausted from being gone all week and wanted nothing more than to veg out and relax with my hubby. I had spent almost 9 hours in the car driving home in snow, sleet, rain, and ice with The Mother (who drove the whole way because it’s less stressful for her to drive than to watch her child drive in that crap though I’ve done it many times.) Visibility was awful, my back and my butt bone hurt, McKenna threw up from car sickness, and there was major traffic as we hit the Twin Cities. When you live where I do you feel stupid complaining about the weather because it’s never that surprising but we had been so hopeful for a decent trip and were feeling pretty let down.
Anyway, I had the start of a blog post in a draft but kept putting it off and putting it off. Finally, later in the evening, after a lot of whining The Scottish told me I had three options, I could go to bed, finish watching the TV show, or blog. I reached for my laptop and turned it on. Shocking me, he closed the top and took it away from me. I said, “Hey! That was one of the options, right?” He said, “Yes, but you picked the wrong one!” I smiled at him and sat back down to cuddle on the couch and watch the rest of the TV show before going to bed around ten. When The Scottish makes up his mind about something, I listen.
Unfortunately, I woke up with extreme anxiety and thoughts of failure so severe I was questioning my ability to complete any project for the rest of my life. How could I expect to be a good mother if I couldn’t keep a three-day a week blog schedule? What if all my readers leave me due to my carelessness? Will I ever make money as a writer with this terrible work ethic?
UMMM, WHOA. I can’t believe I shared those thoughts with you all but I can’t hide any of my crazy from you guys. When I was little, The Mother told me I would re-write my spelling words over and over again until they were perfect. I guess I would erase so much that I bore holes into my homework assignments. Yikes.
To be fair pregnancy and all the house stuff is taking its toll on me. My emotions/hormones are out of control and while I’m super excited for both major life events, I’m constantly thinking about one or the other. Plus, I haven’t felt settled or like I’ve had a place of our own since last June in Chicago.
It doesn’t help that I know how one missed blog post can be a slippery slope for a blogger and can lead to more and more schedule gaps. Also, my boss (me) is SO tough, she like, doesn’t understand, like, that I have a life. Duh! And in all seriousness, this is my creative outlet right now, this is a way to record my life during an exciting time, this is a way to connect with and meet new people, and this is my way of honing my writing skills. Consistency has been very important to me.
The BFF suggested I call my skip day a “sick day,” which I kind of like. And the thing is, no one is perfect, literally, no one. I don’t need to beat myself up over this. In fact, I should be messier with life. I need less structure and more randomness in my day-to-day business. Except my immediate reaction is to actually schedule my spontaneity and give you all a heads up that Tuesday, Thursday, Friday will be my new posting days. AHHHH! I can’t stop myself!
In conclusion, I’m an imperfect person. This post is late. I’m OK with it… kind of. I will post again sometime next week in a random and spontaneous way, or not. I like my life but I struggle with anxiety. Blogging rules.
Tell me how you’re crazy now, and… GO!