A New Kind of Perfect

I got a call last night from an old friend and we had a great chat. Caught up, had some laughs. It was nice. I'd just started in on my bedroom when he called - stripped the bed, taken the covers outside on the landing to air, turned the mattress - but, by the time we said goodnight, it was late and I was yawning. I made up the bed with clean sheets, finished my evening chores, and called it a day. So I was happy to get back to work this evening and finish the job. This will actually give me a chance tomorrow to see if I can clean all my of kitchen - or even just a little bit more of it than normal - in the one morning. I'd better set my alarm, though. That Saturday morning beauty sleep is not a busy housewife's best friend.

Neither is perfectionism.

It seems like it should be, right? You'd think that somebody who was a perfectionist would keep a spick and span house. But it's always been an obstacle for me. On the rare occasions that I cleaned house over the years, I would be frustrated not to have the time and energy to get every nook and cranny shining. What I'm discovering these days is that even though I can't possibly get a room perfectly clean on any given day, if I keep after it regularly, I get to every nook and cranny once in awhile. And the room begins to look a little cleaner as a whole with every month that passes. It's a different kind of perfection. One I haven't been acquainted with before...

Well, it's late and there are a few dishes in the sink that need cleaning before I go to bed. I've got lots to do tomorrow morning!