Perfectionism

It's official. I'm a perfectionist. I hate to admit it, but it's true. Can't hide it much longer.

Here's what happened. I was writing my report for my English project. I checked it. I had a friend read it. I took it home. I editied it. I gave it to my mom. She edited it. I made her editions. She looked at it again. I made the editions. Printed it, and checked it against the copy she had just editied to make sure I didn't miss anything. Went through it once more myself. As I'm printing it, my mom comes in and says "ya know, you should read it one more time, just so you can be suer it made sense."

I shouldn't have listened. I should have resisted the urge to read it one more time. I should have three-hole punched it, put it in my binder, and left it until tomorrow.

No, instead I took it to my desk and read it. I didn't want to change it again, I swear, but I saw it right in the first paragraph. "Between 77 and 38." Should have been a "from 38 to 77." I reached for my pen, but then checked myself. The urge, though, was too great. I picked up the pen and crossed it out, putting in the correct phrase.

5 pages and a dozen editions later, I finished the report. Tail between my legs, I returned to my computer. The urge had caught me, and I was forced to print yet antoher set of corrections.

JB

BTW, JB lover, quit messing with my comments section. I will block you from posting.

And Luke, I'll have my brother tell your daddy on you

JB