Everyone does it.

We both know it's true. Everyone does do it and they do it all the time, many of them do it every single day!  If you think I am referring to making the beast with one back, you are incorrect.  I am talking about making mistakes.

God, how I loathe mistakes.

The only thing I loathe more than making a mistake is when I start getting visibly flummoxed by having made a mistake.  A visible case of the nerves is akin to blood in the water and the only time I am not swimming in shark infested waters is here at home.

The last few days at the new job I find myself apologizing without stopping, this also is a nervous tic that I have.  It's SO annoying too!  People feel obliged to respond with a, "It's okay." or "There is no need to apologize" or any number of word combinations designed to remove the pity from the air.

Darn it!  Don't they know my tics?  Look, I apologized to the vacuum cleaner the other day. Did I honestly feel sorry? NO.  Do I mutter aloud because I am an old cat lady?  YES.

Don't pity me.  I'm not actually sorry, uhmkay?
The last few days have been sort of crazy.  I'm glad I'm back in the groove and I love my new job.  I know for a fact that I NEVER want to retire, not really.  I do want more out of my work life in the coming years but not in the ways you might think.  I have a bead on where I want to go and why.  Furthermore, I actually love, love, love where I am.  Everything is actually very good in my life with a few minor exceptions.

My hair looks like a bad wig no matter what I do, my finances are a wreck at the moment, my mom could be in better health, I miss having a boyfriend and I have a dog in the hospital because she can't poop.  Yes, that's right.  I have a dog that can't poop.  Always with the extremes.  I want pets that won't poop in the house but I don't have anything against pooping in general.


Poor Molly.  At least I apologized to her, right?  

"Listen, Molly. I'm real sorry you can't poop."

 There it is.  I'm a empty apologizer and neurotic about making mistakes.  Why else would I latch onto the name Perfect Miss Pierce?  Perfection is my nirvana.  It's what I crave and I only compete with myself and whomever else is walking on the earth at the same time, so it's not a big deal.  What's a little constipation in exchange for never making a mistake or showing your soft, white underbelly?

Not a whole lot Molly.  Now, relax and enjoy those enemas while mommy tries to figure out what to sell to pay for them.  Don't worry.  Whatever happens, it will be perfect.

Yours,

Miss Pierce

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