That's berry, berry crazy!

It's a sad day when you come to the realization that you're too perfectionistic to buy strawberries.

Now...deep down in the recesses of my rational mind, I know full well that the perfect carton of strawberries just does not exist. But, somehow, when I'm standing in the produce aisle facing 723 cartons of beautiful, red strawberries, that knowledge just does not stop me from trying to find it nonetheless. I can't help feeling absolutely certain that the next carton of strawberries I pick up will surely be less imperfect than the one I currently hold in my hands. And, so, I stand before the strawberries, carefully inspecting all 723 cartons, while the other shoppers maneuver their carts around me and shake their heads in pity. This afternoon, I finally came to my senses and said to myself in exasperation (out loud, I think...oops), "Just pick one already!!"

A lifelong friend of mine had a clock in her college apartment that never failed to make me smile. It had all the numbers jumbled in a pile at the bottom of the clock, and across the middle was scrawled, "Whatever!" I would frequently look at that clock and think, "Man, I wish I was more like that!"

I kind of wonder when it was that I transformed into a perfectionistic maniac. I wasn't always like this. I clearly remember being high school-aged, standing in my bedroom, listening to my mom explain to me in frustration for the 63rd time that the entire surface of my dresser should be a clear and uncluttered surface. I honestly stood there thinking, "She's nuts!" It's obviously genetic because I now stand in our mudroom explaining to my own children for the 4,563rd time (and in no uncertain terms) why there should not be a pile of shoes on the rug in front of the door when we have 2 shoe bins plus a shoe rack in the closet. I see the look in their eyes. They stand there thinking, "She's nuts!"

I seem to be attracted to people of a laid-back nature. I stand in awe and admiration of their relaxed and happy-go-lucky personalities. It's so refreshing to me. These people can leave dirty dishes in their kitchen sinks, not shower until 1:00 in the afternoon, and leave the beds unmade all day, and not be any worse for the wear. And I'm fairly certain that they don't drive their fellow shoppers in the strawberry aisle to the brink of madness. My two best buds are definitely like this. Don't get me wrong, they're not slobs or anything, they're just...normal. There are days I want to take them by both shoulders, look at them with my crazed and maniacal eyes and cry, "HELP ME!! Can't you see that I've lost my mind?!?" Except I know what would happen. They would shake their heads in pity, gently place a hand on my shoulder, and say, "We've tried, sweetie, and we're sorry, but there's just no such thing as help for someone as far gone as you."