Things Come Crashing Down

apartment, storyVirginia Hart2 Comments

Patrick has brought it to my attention that I am, at times, pretty reckless - a surprising self realization given that I am normally obnoxiously meticulous, ever striving for perfection. When it comes to certain projects like the recent ones around the apartment, I suppose I take a Buddy-the-Elf-running-and-jumping-on-the-Christmas-tree-to-attach-the-star approach and just attack without proper preparation or care. "Eh, I'll eyeball it", I think. A couple lamps might have crashed after not moving the cords and there might have been a few extra holes in the walls. Nothing that a magical tub of spackling goop can't fix! But then the 4:00AM wake-up call happened. Ya know, when the giant antique heavy a$$ mirror came crashing down to the floor. Awakened from separate nightmares to a noise that was as loud as a friggin bomb explosion, we shot up in such a panic that it took hours to calm back down. We heard our neighbors walking around probably deafened by the cacophonous boom on the 2nd floor. Oddly enough, the mirror part didn't crack at all (?!) so at least we don't have to worry about any bad luck trailing us for seven years...Β However, I will admit that I - the reckless little lady - hung that mirror.  

my bad.


Looking at the wimpy nail that couldn't withstand the weight, I realize my mistake. Why is this? Why am I so careless when I am so notΒ in other areas of my life? Maybe that's it. I think and dwell and prepare and make lists and practice and do over and do over again and think about whether my do-over-again is sufficient. I am a planner, attempting to mentally file way too many business and personal agendas...and I am a juggler, ever wanting the perfect balance between the many different facets of my life. And I'll be the first to admit that I tend to drive myself a little crazy with all the thoughts that go into those efforts. So when I see a mirror that needs to be hung on the wall, I just don't want to wonder if the nail is strong enough and I don't want to measure if it's exactly centered and I don't want to analyze the situation like I do everything else. There's no room in my little head. So I hang it up like I'm a member of a NASCAR pit crew. Get in, get out, move on.

And yes, I realize this method isn't workinggg. But what can I say? It's exhilarating. I might swing around that power drill of mine like I'm a prepubescent boy with a Nerf gun. I might start making a giant mess without putting down paper towels. (I also might be driving my boyfriend crazy.) But you know what? That carefree side of mine? The one that realizes situations that don't matter quite as much? The one that just eyeballs it? Well, I kind of appreciate its technique. We all have, what we believe to be, weaker traits in our personality - bad habits, things we don't want everyone to know, and things we beat ourselves up for not doing better.

In an effort to celebrate our less perfect sides, here are five of my own vices ::

1. Cooking is not in my repertoire. I have absolutely no clue what I'm doing. Also, I'm afraid of sharp knives.

2. I am zero percent athletic. The only individual sport in which I thrived was elementary dodgeball. Only because I hid in the corner.

3. If I'm having a really, really, really bad day I buy items to make brownies and eat the batter. Raw. All of it.* (*see #1)

4. I hit the snooze button up to 5 times. And it takes me over an hour to become human each morning.

5. I am reckless when it comes to household projects. And I hang heavy a$$ mirrors on itty bitty nails. And I don't foresee any problems. Until, ya know, things come crashing down.

until next time,