So perfect it doesn’t exist

Since a young age, I’ve been cursed, maybe blessed, depending on your view, with perfectionism. (Grammar nuts may point out that my perfectionism does not apply to the correct usage of a comma based on the previous sentence). I have often thought that perfectionism was a problem for me; a personal struggle between doing a good job and getting the job done. A personal trait which, for some, was confusing as I am also known for my seriously imperfect behaviour when it comes to tidiness. (Yes, my CDs are in alphabetical order yet my desk is a scattered paper abstract art piece).

Yet all this was not a big deal. I never really considered it’s impact on others. After all it was my perfectionism.

Then I met someone more perfectionistic than myself.

I’ll call this person FISH. Those of you who know me personally, don’t try to figure out who FISH is because the name is completely random and has no link to the real person – or none that I know about! Perhaps I plucked FISH out as a name because secretly I’d like to get a fish and perform the monty python fish dance on said person. Of course, I want to be John Cleese not Michael Palin. (Should I be showing my age and baffling any readers: refer to youtube video of the infamous fish slapping dance).

As Fish wants to be sure the i’s are dotted and the t’s crossed, the ducks are in a row and the documentation completed down to the gnat’s ass, Fish does not move. Yes that’s right. Everything stops, stalls, halts, is shut down or nipped in the bud.

If I’m sounding like a thesaurus tonight, it’s because I’m being perfectionistic with my descriptions of my irritation. You see just using one word to describe Fish’s inaction, would be, well, inadequate! A single word does not convey to degree to which Fish can drive me up the wall, round the twist and down the rabbit hole! Fish is such a dyed to the wool perfectionist that I’m struggling to remember the last time I managed to negotiate task completion without a hiatus to allow for due diligence to occur!

All this has got me wondering – am I like fish? Do I drive people doolally with my perfectionism? Then I realised that the answer must be no. After all the name of the blog is the data monkey not the data fish. A good thing really as wet data may be a very bad idea as I’m not sure data has been given swimming lessons. With that piece of unfettered nonsense I shall endeth today’s rant before I decide to attach floaties to my date fields and flippers to my text strings!

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Posted on November 1, 2012, in Communications, Not for Profit and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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