Follow the Rules, Part 1: Social Fail

I've always been an overachiever.

Wow. You poor little reader. I see what happened there. Surely you're thinking to yourself, "Wait... you can't just start a blog like that... There's no context... It's just *BAM!* Here's a fast and furious glimpse into a random blogger's psyche. In ya. face." Ok, ok... I see your point. Let's take a step back.

I like to do things well. Actually, when I say "do things well," what I mean is that I've been told by friends, family, and a therapist that I am a perfectionist. Please don't ogle me. I am, after all, only human...

I've always enjoyed being good at things... and being recognized for it. If anyone tells you they're doing something really, really awesome for themselves only and "not for recognition," then ask yourself this... Why is he or she telling you? Hmm...?? Yeah, that's right. Overachievers know they are, and they want a certificate. Or a trophy or a ribbon or a plaque or a gold star. Any sort of recognition will do, actually. Just as long as it comes in a timely manner.

This is not to say that I am awesome at everything in the world. That would just be plain impossible. But any little thing under the sun that I can learn to do, I am going to do the hell out of it because that is how I am wired. I might not be the best at it, and that's ok... well if we're being honest, really it's not. I told my therapist that. She nodded at me. It's really not ok for me way deep down if I'm not the most amazing at what I'm doing, but I won't give up and I won't go down without a fight, that is one thing you can count on.

With this sort of perfectionism comes an inherent need to follow the rules. I am a Class A rule follower. If you don't know what that is, please allow me to elaborate with a short anecdote. A friend of mine decided to gather her buddies together for a birthday dinner at a Mexican restaurant one year. I showed up to the restaurant just after our scheduled meeting time and proceeded to walk inside. No one was at the little podium... you know, the one where you tell the lady, "I'm here for the birthday party" or "Party of 2, please." There was a sign posted next to the person-less podium that glared at me: "Please wait to be seated." You can imagine what happened next. That's right... nothing. I stood there... waiting. The restaurant was mostly empty... and I was sticking my neck out trying to peek around to see if I could spot my friends. But the very palpable yet invisible barrier there absolutely prevented me from entering the restaurant. I stood there for several minutes, getting more and more anxious, with no podium lady arriving, until finally one of my friends saw me and shouted at me to "Come over here!" That invitation broke the invisible barrier... and I went to the table.

Neurotic, I know. But I just follow the rules... it's what I do. My friends laughed at me that night, and it was ok because the truth is, it's just who I am. You will either have to find it endearing about me or you will not. It just is what it is. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I just am what I am. I'm such a rule-follower that I thought it most appropriate to write a two-part blog post on exactly this with a couple of examples of the troubles this tendency has caused me. So this saga, ladies and gentlemen, is officially...

To be continued...