Remember that game Perfection? The timer is ticking away and you must try to get all the different shapes into their perspective holes before the time runs out. If you don’t, all the pieces go flying into the air.
I am in a perpetual game of Perfection.
My kids are in various activities, I’ve got my own appointments around town, and I’m constantly trying to squeeze one more task into that 5 minutes between one thing and the next. It’s called multi tasking, people, and Oprah says all moms do it.
Example: I’ve got to drop kids at school by 7:45 and I have a doctor’s appointment across town at 9. Here’s where the game begins. I’ll bet I can grab a few things at the store before my appointment. (One more shape, one more hole!) I forget that I have to add time in for driving through LA traffic, as well as parking at both the grocery store and the doctor’s office. I always choose the longest slowest line in the checkout area and then have to wait for a price check on something personal…like tampons. You know the drill. An employee, let’s call him “Darryl,” slowly meanders over to grab the box, sizing me up the whole time. No Darryl, I don’t need them at this very moment. It’s for later. LATER, ok? (Am I the only woman still embarrassed to buy tampons? Why is that?)
Anyway, when my grocery shopping is done, I have to race home to put up said groceries before heading to the doctor’s office. It’s now 8:55 am and I am still a good 15 minutes away from where I need to be. Cue knot in stomach and crazy driving. Argh! I never learn the lesson. The feeling of pride and accomplishment I get from the few times I actually successfully squeeze in that “one more thing” far outweighs the million times I am unsuccessful and late.
Hey everyone! I dropped the kids at school, hit Target for another sundress (and tampons) AND made it for my pap smear! I did it! Do you hear me? I won! Perfection!
It is interesting that the game was named Perfection. Is that what I’m doing? Trying to be perfect? Probably. What a scam. But I’ll keep trying to beat the clock. Frantically attempting to fit all my errands and responsibilities into every time slot. Not a minute wasted. I can’t help myself. I want to win the game. I want PERFECTION. 
Carpool Confessions 