The Media Diary Will Return

The Few Things That Stop Me From Being Perfect

 


Nobody is perfect.

But maybe some of us are really close. It is just one or two puzzles that must be solved before flawlessness pours down from heaven.

I am humble enough to admit that may not be in my future, but I feel I have pinpointed the obstacles that must be leaped over. Here are a few things in my life that just make me a few metres shy from reaching perfection.

I apparently can't properly load a dishwasher. "What is wrong with you?" is a phrase I often hear uttered from a lovely individual after she opens the machine. My consolation is that at least I don't try putting dirty underwear in there.

Family events are rarely planned by me. I refuse to say I never plan things, because there have been surprise parties, treasure hunts with my children, and a few date nights that I masterminded. If I vowed from this day forth to plan an event every week then I'd still be behind on what Emily has organized for our family. 

My dogs' view of me is exaggerated and inaccurate. My dogs believe I am one of the greatest humans known in history. They wag their tails and bounce with joy whenever I mention their name or look in their direction. No one else in this world seems to have that view. Unfortunately, my dogs' lack of English means they are unlikely to convince anyone else to join their team.

Imposter syndrome has plagued my career. I can write a piece that goes viral. Several clients or publishers can happily pay for my work. But a few rejections or an editor that points to flaws in my writing plunges me into an abyss of self-doubt and crushed confidence. I spend way too much time Googling 'Why does my writing suck' than focusing on the writing victories.

I'm not as easy-going and friendly as advertised. This last year I've been so overwhelmed and anxious about my career that I've not been a bounty of rainbow bubbles and a basket of kittens. I've been cranky and quick-tempered, and not the person I aspire to be. The negatives have now motivated me to become a better husband, father, family member, and friend. I am pursuing medical help and consultation to resolve some of these major issues. 

There is a littered path of unaccomplished goals. I've wanted to be a novelist for decades. For the past several years, I've revealed my hope to join a movie critics' association. It is not a secret I want to drastically expand the readers of Beyond the Balcony and the listeners of The Movie Breakdown. I could write a massive tome about all the goals that I haven't achieved, but that time would be better spent realizing my dreams.

Brushing my back teeth makes me gag. I thought I got past hating brushing my teeth when I stopped swallowing toothpaste when I was 5. Now, the toothbrush can't get to the back of my mouth without the risk that my breath is about to smell a whole lot worse. My sense is this is not a party trick that would entertain an audience, so I get to suffer this one alone. The issue seems best summed up as 'sometimes getting old isn't fun.'

I don't drive a vehicle. But I sure do drive my wife nuts. Am I right? Do you get me? That guy knows what I'm talking about.

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