Authenticity vs. Perfectionism

Photo by Abigail Keenan on Unsplash

I have the curse of perfectionism. I’d like to blame my genetics, an evil fairy who wasn’t invited to my Christening. Or maybe the ghost clown from Scooby-Doo, with his pretty gold coin mesmerizing me with its twinkle, but those would be excuses. I need chaos like I need vitamin D and Nutella, but I also need order so I can keep my shit together. Order, like a toothpaste tube slowly squeezing out a little chaos to clean my teeth with…