The Fine Art Of Being A Perfectionist

“Sometimes you can’t afford to make, “–that is a quote from this article. It resonates with me deeply.

Thought Catalog


It is a feeling of anxiety, of intense preoccupation. It begins from a part of your body, mostly your stomach or your chest. It wells up inside of you, fills up your lungs, and then suddenly sends a minor contraction. A slight shortness of breath, a fleeting sense of panic, but you cannot exactly put your finger on what it is that is causing such nuisance. It’s there, it makes its presence known, yet its cause remains ambiguous. Your stomach may grumble, and let out odd sounds of protestation. You try to recall when it is that you last ate. But no, it is not hunger — the savor of the roasted chicken you ate a couple of hours ago is still lingering in your mouth.

It sends a shudder up my mother’s spine as she prepares dinner for the annual family gathering. She’s doubled over the kitchen counter…

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