You Should NOT Build a New House if… (Part 6) You Insist on Perfection

Are you like me? Do you like for everything to be perfect? When you see a pothole in the road, do you want it filled in immediately? Or better yet, have the road repaved? When you see a hole in a shirt, do you want it to be repaired quickly? Or better yet, have the shirt replaced? When you forget something, do you want to bash your brain in to teach it a lesson? Or better yet, reroute your neurons so they no longer take the wrong exit or run into a ditch?

I hate imperfections. You’d think that after having put up with many imperfections in my almost 61 years of life, I’d be used to them by now. But I am not. In fact, I think I hate them even more now than I used to. If my aversion to imperfections continues to grow, then by the time I reach the age of 75, I may have to be put into pure white sterile room with no doors disturbing the walls’ perfection. And please leave me a gun so I can blow my brains out should the wall paint ever begin to crack.

If you are a perfectionist like me and you want to build a new house, you have two choices: blindfold yourself each time you visit the house or DON’T BUILD IT!! Well, actually there is a third option, but it won’t be easy. It’s the option I opted for. Get it through your think head that there will be many imperfections while building the house and just GET OVER IT! Whew, it’s hard to say, let alone actually do. It will require a lot of mental energy, so be sure to carry a portable generator around with you while construction progresses.

I could tell you about the time I visited the house and discovered they had put water and drainage lines in a wall where no water or drainage was needed, but I won’t.

I could tell you about the time I visited the house and discovered someone had knocked a hole in our freshly installed sheetrock, but I won’t.

I could tell you about the time I visited the house and discovered that the newly installed kitchen cabinets were partially covering one of the can lights, but I won’t.

I could tell you about the time I visited the house and discovered there was a hole all the way through the partial wall above a column near the dining room, but I won’t.

I could tell you about the time I visited the house and discovered a leak at the water line to the laundry room and how I visited many more times over the following weeks and it was still leaking, but I won’t.

I could tell you about the time I visited the house and discovered that some workers had pulled their van up beside the house on wet freshly laid sod leaving a trail of ruts behind, but I won’t.

I could tell you about the time I visited the house and discovered that the wrong French doors to the library had been installed, but I won’t.

I could tell you about the downspout near our bedroom window that has a leak on the upper elbow that creates a continuous thunking noise when water drops hit the lower elbow, but I won’t.

I could tell you about the dirt and mud flowing into our yard from a neighboring empty lot during a downpour, but I won’t.

And the reason I’m not going to tell you about these things is that I know you too are a perfectionist and the very mention of these things would make you squeamish or even make your blood boil. I simply cannot bring myself to do that to a friend. I’m too much of a perfectionist.