Perfectionist

You wouldn't know it to read the crap I put up here, but I spend years editing stuff I care about. I think I overdo it, because whatever I do hand in has to be golden.

Today I brought my essay to the neighborhood cafe for Beccarah to give some feedback on. She was great about it, until the sun went behind the clouds and the rain came pouring down. It was hilarious, really, out on the porch with all the Frenchies. We gave the rain cloud about thirty seconds to see if it would just blow over. And it did... right over onto the cafe terrace and across my coffee and essay. So we ran inside and gave up the battle for the perfect sentence. God was telling me that I needed to just let. it. go.

For now.

Here's the thing: I know when words feel right. I have a few sentences that just feel ON. But there's a huge part that feels all mushy and wrong. I've done the taking-a-few-days-off technique, and not looked at it for awhile. I've tried meditating on it and coming back to it. I've tried rewriting and rearranging. The damn sentences just aren't working.

But they will.

The lamest part is that this essay doesn't really matter. I just want it to be perfect for perfection's sake.

Or I just don't feel like studying for the GRE anymore.