I think I'm in shock. I haven't been able to post for a few days because there is actually legitimate work to do in my office! It's true that the tasks are somewhat menial, but I cannot believe that I actually have something to do on a daily basis besides surf the internet and write my blog entries.

Writing my blog entries is usually a semi-tedious task that requires a lot of editing. I do all of the editing myself, of course. Sometimes it actually takes me two or three days to perfect an entry. That's because I'm a perfectionist. I edit for spelling and grammar. I omit jokes that I realize are not going to be *that* funny. I use the thesaurus. In other words, I take this whole blogging business a bit too seriously.

I tend to go a bit overboard on just about anything I do. This means that I usually exceed the criteria for any given project/assignment rather than simply meeting the criteria. When I wrote my first paper in college, my introduction alone was 20 pages. My professor kindly told me that he refused to accept anything more than 20 pages.

My perfectionistic tendencies also extend to my home. I dust and vacuum daily. I actually clean my leather couch with Pledge wipes. I own three air purifiers, and they are constantly running. Crumbs are my enemy. If I see them, they are immediately sprayed with a multi-purpose-lavender-scented cleaning product and dutifully wiped away. I clean the inside of my trashcans as well. I have even gone so far as to haul my fake ficus tree into the bathtub and use the shower head to remove dust from the leaves.

I also own 6 or 7 of those "hair-remover" rollers because I have two dogs. It's really unfortunate that I like to wear black. However, their hair also shows up on every other color of clothing that I own, no matter what the material. It doesn't matter if I clothe myself in my work attire just prior to leaving the house. It seems to make no difference if I dress in another room. Nor does it seem to matter if I avoid the dogs completely after dressing. During some moment of the day, I am bound to find a hair or two on my clothing. It's a good thing I love my dogs; I'll say that much.

I also love doing research. I guess that's an asset to a sociologist. If I get a request for information of any type, I'm not only going to give you that information, but the history of that information as well. Want to find out what's going to happen in the future? No problem. I can predict for that as well. Just give me a few days to evaluate the bazillion pages of data I've collected and sorted into sections by year and category. I'm also guilty of making everything into an outline, complete with numbers and letters. My high school English teacher never should have stressed the importance of having an "a,b, and c" for each numbered category.

Growing up, I was the only teenager in my high school that dusted her room weekly using Windex. Each item was placed back in it's original location when I was finished. I also organized my clothing in different ways--first by color, then by style, then pairing all potential outfits in neat little sections. Oh, and God forbid any of the seasonal categories should get mixed up.

The only other person I know that is this perfectionistic is my mother-in-law. She would actually go so far as to iron and fold her children's underwear. And the only time I have ever seen her with mussed hair is last year after she had surgery and she was too doped-up on pain meds to get out of bed. The catheter might have also been a good reason.

All of that said, I have improved my perfectionistic tendencies over the years. I've learned to let a few things slide, like leaving the toast crumbs on the cutting board until I come home from work; and not organizing the food in the refigerator by food group. And it's okay for the interior of the trash can to get dirty sometimes.

I simply came to the realization that there are times that I would rather be living life than cleaning. I want people to remember me for my kindness, compassion, and intelligence--rather than my "immaculate home".