My feet aren't flat on the mat during downward dog in yoga class and they probably never will be.
The cupcakes I made for the daughter of one of my friends to celebrate her new job weren't topped with perfectly uniform buttercream swirls.
The bench and summerhouse I painted have drips (definitely) and missed bits (probably).
The garden is covered (always, despite all the sweeping) in a blanket of dead eucalyptus leaves.
There are dust bunnies under the beds.
I eat peanut butter straight from the jar. Nope, no spoon.
My hair will never be poker straight.
Perfectionism ain't all it's cracked up to be.
So I'm letting myself off the hook and truly embracing the flawed.
No more could have, should have.
And no more hair straighteners.
Well, until this heatwave breaks.