I’ve known for a long time that I lean to the perfectionist side of the scale. For a shorter time I’ve known what an obstacle this characteristic can be to personal success. Take the drywalling process.
I was thrust into the role of taper/mudder this last week in a home improvement project my husband and I have undertaken.
Sure, my husband was up for the task of taping and mudding but I knew his level of finish work wouldn’t be up to my standards.
Oh, he’s fantastic with structural execution.
I’m pretty sure that Zombies will be utilizing his decks, dog doors, roofs, and other edifices long after the apocalypse.
So after studying numerous YouTube videos on the process of taping and applying joint compound, I hesitantly launched my rookie effort.
First coat, not too daunting. And, my husband provided just the right amount of positive reinforcement to usher me confidently into the second coat. Although, can I just say that the physical contortions required for ceiling work, whether it’s finishing drywall or painting a fresco, are better suited to Michelangelo than me?!
So, the second coat was moving right along until my perfectionist gene kicked in. A few years ago, I attended a chalk-painting session where the instructor scolded me for over-working the paint. Well, her scolding obviously didn’t have the required effect because I found myself overworking my mostly smooth, mudded joints into deteriorating bumps, ridges, and craters (a slight exaggeration, but remember my perfectionist admission?). I reassured myself that the sanding process would resolve the imperfections.
Fast forward to completion of third coat, final sanding, and applying the paint primer. Suddenly, my heart sank. Those troublesome imperfections had returned. Well, they hadn’t ever fully left and the paint coat only served to highlight them. I found myself evaluating where the obscuring wall art, mirror, and towel bars were to be hung not to mention just how many towel bars hung with over-sized towels might be appropriate for a small basement bathroom.
So, today, I’m attempting some therapeutic writing to keep me from heading down to the basement to float out yet another coat of mud…
My Virtual Assistant email tag line reads, “Aiming for Excellence,” and yes, this may be a level of which to aspire. Just don’t let it flush your joy of household projects down the proverbial glossy, new water closet.
“Why Perfection is the Enemy of Done” by @DeepPatel