I am Not a Perfectionist

This is not a new revelation, but every once in awhile it strikes me afresh. I mean you all know this about me, especially if you're a former co-worker. But all these little home-improvement projects I've signed up for . . . yeah.

One of the many projects that my uncle began (and really, "began" is the operative word here) when he was here last time was the creation of a real, honest to goodness, coat closet. It was a great idea. This house has NO closets. Of any kind. But under the stairs there was this area that vaguely resembled a closet, in that it was kind of tucked away and had its own light. But it wasn't walled in, so anything you stacked under the stairs, was visible from everywhere in the living room, sort of defeating the purpose of a closet (which is to let you throw crap somewhere it can't be seen and therefore can be forgotten.) Anyway, my uncle took down the shelves which were in the living room sort of shielding some of the crap under the stairs from view, stacked everything that was on the shelves in my dining room, took out all the outlets and switches and lights, walled in this space with drywall, and bought a door to put on it, and my very kind and helpful neighbor came down and put on the first couple of layers of mud to smooth the walls. And then my uncle left. So for the last month I've had this unfinished useless closet where there formerly was a very functional, if ugly storage space. Sigh. My carpet has been rolled away from the wall, my couch has been in the middle of the living room, and the bookshelves that used to be outside the closet are sitting out in the carport making it impossible to park my car there (they're really big shelves), and my dining room is full of boxes of crap that really belongs in a closet, unseen.

The big hold-up in finishing this closet, is that the living room bookshelves can't get put up until the walls are painted. And the walls really shouldn't be painted until they're textured to match the rest of the living room. Which is a messy job, and mixing mud is a pain in the ass. So today I finally said "fuck it". I don't like the texture on the rest of the walls anyway. The closet walls are smooth enough. I'll paint them, and I'll get the neighbor down to help me put the shelves back up, and it will be FINE. And, more importantly, finished.

So yeah, I'm not even a proponent of "the perfect is sometimes an enemy of the good". I'm really more a "why bother reaching for good, when with a little less effort you can achieve good enough" kind of girl.