I've been thinking about Perfection lately, ever since a dear friend of mine introduced me to a certain blog by a certain single dad. Specifically, the disease of Perfection (yes, capital P) that appears to be mowing folks down by the millions in this country. I, too, suffer from the Perfection disease, just as my friend admits. Specifically (well, for one) the Writing Perfection disease. It's just plain idiotic of me really. I never blog because I'm waiting for the Perfect witty/charming/whimsical bullshit to just appear in my head. I bought a gorgeous journal with a japanese painting of the ocean on the front, but have I written in it? Dream on. It's still right where I tossed it when I got home from the store.
So, here we go. Perfection be damned. I'm committing to writing whatever now. Just....whatever. So I might bore y'all to death. Or maybe I'll accidentally be witty/charming/whimsical. Who knows. But it's going to be great.
I think.
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