If I've ever called you anal, that is one of the biggest compliments I could give you because that is a part of myself that I know I lack and I envy in other people. I wish I were more of a perfectionist and needed things in my life to be just so. That is far from the case. I've always been content with good enough.

I don't need to cut my vegetables in perfect sizes. Do you see fingerprints on my table? I could care less. Even when I was in school, I would never double check my work until it was PERFECT, like some people I knew. I was happy to scan it once and turn it in if I didn't see any blatant screaming errors. I don't put on perfect air brushed make up every morning. I can put on wrinkled clothes and walk out into the world without a care. Not everything has to be pressed and dry cleaned. Just as long as it doesn't smell, I'm good to go. My furniture doesn't have to match. I can eat off different plates that I didn't buy as a set in one sitting. The clothes up in my closet are not hanging in some sort of order. All these things are ok with me, but sometimes I wish that these things WOULD bug me, that I would WANT everything around me to be perfect, neat, clean, ironed, organized, matching, color coded, alphabetized, etc.

Sometimes I just wish I had more Martha or Bree in me.