What is your biggest weakness? One of the most common answers to this interview question is, “I’m a perfectionist!” Now, I’m sure you don’t want to take interview advice from a man who spent five years on the dole. But I’d argue there are no good answers to any interview questions. “Why should we hire you?” “I dunno, you need the work, otherwise why IN GOD’S NAME are you advertising for a job, you muppet.” For some strange reason, I didn’t get that job…
But is perfectionism a weakness? It’s like going on a date with a girl and you tell her your biggest strength is resisting cake. Cake aficionados would say that is not a strength but a weakness, but I’m not so sure. Women love cake so if she’s clever, she’s sat there thinking:
‘Ooh! More cake for me!’
There is more than one way to look at something. Up. Down. A bit to the left. A bit to the right. Internally. That’s what I’m saying! Look at your cake’s innards, not its outards. Is it obvious I’m in to week three of the flu? I can’t hear a thing. You’d think that’s annoying. But with the spring birds out in full force usually waking me up at four in the morning, I’m saving a lot of money on bullets…
Resisting cake is strength, in the same way ‘perfectionism’ is a strength. Just as my response to, “Where you do see yourself in five years?” is, “In charge of some kind of Playboy mansion.” Well, I say ‘in charge’, I’m in charge of the admin. I love my spreadsheets. Of course, none of this is true, but I can’t tell my potential new boss about my hot pants museum. So I’ll ‘fake’ an answer. What do you want me to say? That I want his job? I don’t want his job. He sucks.
I also didn’t get this job.
Perfectionism is misunderstood. Like farts during the flu. Perfectionism comes from a place of order. But few people see it that way. People look upon the perfectionist with scorn. They don’t understand his endless farts are as a result of his flu. They think he’s a strange farting man. And that might be true. So few other people suffer the indignity of endless farts. To the point where he thought it was a normal symptom that everyone got. But it isn’t. And now here he stands, apologising for a gut that won’t quit.
I’M SO SORRY!
But why do we need an air freshener? This is as natural as you can imagine. You might think of perfectionism as a self-defeating way to move through this world. A bad smell that needs covering up. But trust me on this, no amount of air freshener can change who I am. I’m a perfectionist. Farts and all.
The perfectionist is self-orientated and critical of others. But what’s wrong with that? What’s wrong with expecting the best of the things you love? It’s time to re-evaluate the perfectionist. They’ve had a bad wrap for too long, dagnabbit!
Sorry, ‘rap’. A bad ‘wrap’ is probably what made me so farty. Sorry, I mean the person in the above analogy, which is not at all based on a true story or myself. Ahem…
The High Achievey Perfect Machiney
Why am I a perfectionist? I do not know from where it came. What I do know is that a task not done right makes me itchy. It’s not that I expect the best from everyone, it’s this fundamental bafflement embedded deep within me. We have quote forms where I work. You print two on a sheet of paper and you use the guillotine to slice the paper in two. I picked one quote form up the other day and half of the other quote form was at the bottom. How can you slice it like that? I’m not expecting them to be evenly sliced but COME ON, MAN! HOW STUPID ARE YOU!
And while I remember, come on now, ‘guillotine’ isn’t that hard to say. GEE-OH-TEEN! When I heard someone the other day ask me for the ‘cutting thingy’ I almost ripped his frickin’ head off. What the hell has happened to our world? Is this the act of a perfectionist or a lunatic? It’s hard to say. But if you’re asking me, as the former, I’d go for the former…
Yes, the little things annoy me. The coaster not properly aligned with the edge of the table, exactly one inch from both sides. Yes, it annoys me when someone is even one second late. Yes, it bothers me when people say ‘pre-mark’ rather than ‘pry-mark’. Yes, an unevenly sliced sandwich makes my buttocks clench. Ineligible handwriting makes me weep. I scream when people tell me, ‘Well you failed but you tried your best.’ IF I TRIED MY BEST AND I FAILED THEN I DIDN’T TRY MY BEST, DAMN YOU! It bothers me when someone isn’t happy with a present I spent a long time working on. You have a panic attack when you send a message without proper grammar. And yes, it bothers me when people are adamant they’re correct when they’re blatantly not.
Do you know that scene in ‘Nobody’ where Hutch is on the bus and he kicks the shit out of loads of bad guys? That was almost me the other day. There was this overwhelming sense of rage seething inside. I almost lost it. I was THIS close to anarchy. THE RULE OF LAW IS DEAD! I’M GOING TO KICK SOME ARSES! MAYHEM! WOO!
And you know why? We have this shop in the UK, a DIY shop named ‘B&Q’. I know that stands for ‘Block & Quayle’ because I’m a 34-year-old virgin. There was someone behind me on the bus sitting with a friend when we drove by a B&Q. One friend turned to the other and pondered, “Hmm, what does that stand for?” Pointing to B&Q. The other guy responded, “Oh, I know this, it doesn’t stand for anything, it’s just some letters.”
IT’S JUST SOME LETTERS! ARE YOU KIDDING ME! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU! IT’S NOT… I… OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! I’M GOING TO KILL YOU! ARRRGH! THAT PATHETIC HEART OF YOURS, RIPPED FROM YOUR CHEST AND SHOVED IN YOUR FACE! AND AS YOU LIE THERE, CHOKING ON YOUR OWN BLOOD, I’LL TELL YOU WHAT IT STANDS FOR, YOU PILLOCK!
David Quayle did not fall off a cruise ship in 2010 and died for this kind of ignorance. It’s 14 years since his passing two weeks ago. I bet you didn’t hold a moment’s silence did you? You may as well have pushed him off that boat; you’re that kind of monster…
And you think I’M the crazy one? Nah, mate. We perfectionists are in the right. Because without us, idiots like the B&Q guy go unpunished. I admit I let him go unpunished but I can’t kill someone over a grammatical error.
Again.
Perfect Perfectionist’s Paradise
No perfectionist desires to ‘correct’ the world. We desire to have a world that works. That makes sense. One that is logical and organised. There are, in truth, many benefits to the life of a perfectionist.
We maintain high standards. No perfectionist tolerates a pothole. Nope, we are the road workers who paint the words ‘Bus Stop’ on… well, the bus stop. They do that by hand, you know. BY HAND! Ah, they are the Rembrandts of our day. Unlike the band, The Rembrandts. Who, sadly, aren’t the Rembrandts they once were.
Putting in the extra effort leads to greater creativity. We have a strong attention to detail, you see, which leads to innovative ideas. We are willing to take risks and push boundaries to get what we want. We are the people who come up with creative solutions. I’m the person in the team meeting suggesting a pronunciation guide next to ‘PRY-MARK’. You have no idea how many wars this has started in Britain…
Perfectionists are also better at their jobs than non-perfectos. We are highly motivated and detail-orientated. Take paving. You know how some towns have paving that forms a pattern? But oh dear, some of the pipes underneath need fixing. And you know what happens? When they put that paving back, they don’t care about the pattern. It’s a frickin’ catastrophe. Of paving. WHAT THE HELL IS THAT! What happened to civic pride? This is why I couldn’t be in charge of a paving crew. I would whip them senseless for that and I’m not joking. An actual whip. DAMN YOU, FOUL CRETINS!
And there’s more. Perfectionists are healthier. Good health habits are our obsession. Those blood numbers are looking a little low, Ally. NO PROBLEM! I love data! We are the ones who get the ugly lump checked out. Turns out, it was my head. Sniff.
Perfectionists also have stronger relationships. We are dependable partners. We like to maintain what we have if it’s good. So we’ll put the effort in to keep it that way. Our attention to detail is second to none. Last Easter, I made an Easter basket for my mum. I went through about 20 versions until I was happy. Our desire to get things right is why there are no perfectionists in Parliament.
And it gets better! We have excellent time management. We can juggle many tasks and responsibilities at once. We meet tight deadlines and are efficiency experts. We are also far more resilient, which I know is a bit rich coming from a man into week three of a cold.
But I’m also the man who’s been to work every day of those three weeks, even though it took me 20 minutes to stand up this morning. Does perfectionism often come at the expense of common sense? No. Because we have excellent self-awareness.
We don’t rest on our laurels. We take one look at that Easter basket, see its flaws, and set about improving on them. Not until it’s ‘PERFECT’ but until it’s what I desired. Our sense of purpose in life is second to none.
We know who we are. The perfectionist seeks the most happiness with the least effort. Does it matter if we don’t achieve that? No, of course not. It doesn’t stop me from having pleasant, cathartic dreams about murdering that B&Q man though, does it?
Insane? Or is insanity another way of looking at sanity, hmm? You think it’s normal to pose with your hand under your chin, I think you’re a nutcase…
The Perfect Way of Life
You HATE the perfectionist but for me, there is no sweeter life.
I get why you might disagree. You might think we perfectionists set ourselves impossible standards. But they’re not impossible to learn. It’s not a lot to expect the best of someone. It’s not a lot to expect someone to perform a task well. It’s not a lot to expect someone to turn up on time. Am I angry about this? Of course! But am I wrong to feel anger? No. When you sit there and pretend to know every minutia about the history of B&Q, I have every right to punch you in the face.
Do I know everything, am I the perfect man? No. of course not. But that’s not what it means to be a perfectionist. To be a perfectionist is to try your best.
Perfectionism is all about wanting to do well in the things you care about, not ALL things. We accept if we’re new at something we’re not going to be great at it. That’s something I’m aware of if I ever kiss a woman. I understand the idea of French kissing, but I don’t get the mechanics of it. Like… how’s that… like… even… possible? Would you not prefer a French hug? I can’t go into details on a family blog but let’s say there’s a baguette involved…
Perfectionists have a higher level of achievement and increased creativity. As well as improved task performance, better health and stronger relationships. We also have meticulous attention to detail and brilliant time management. Not to mention increased resilience, self-awareness and a sense of purpose. Our lives are rich in meaning.
Why would you not want to be a perfectionist? Well, you see, that’s the thing. We’re not made. We’re born. And sure, all people are born and thus made, so I guess we are ‘made’. And we all are… made. But not all people are perfectionists. All people are ‘made’, sure. But it’s a ‘nature’ thing. Or a nurture thing. I’m not sure, this paragraph kinda got away from me.
Did I mention the cold? Did anyone else have a glass of whisky before they went to work this morning? I needed it. My legs weren’t working.
It’s wrong to say perfectionists are no fun. We are. It’s not a lot to ask other people to look after the things we care about. This isn’t the pursuit of the impossible. It’s about maintaining a sense of order in an often chaotic world.
So make no apologies for being a perfectionist. Embrace who you are. And love every second of it.
Being a perfectionist is not a weakness. So in your next job interview, tell the employer it is your biggest strength. And that you want this job because you need the money or they’re going to break your legs…
“Perfection of character is this: to live each day as if it were your last, without frenzy, without apathy, without pretence.”
– Marcus Aurelius (Roman thinking wizard).
Peace Out :|:
Post DCLXVIII: What do you think of perfectionists, reader?
The Indelible Life of Me 
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