Slightly Imperfect

Slightly Imperfect

Today I bought a $2 T-shirt. "Slightly Imperfect" it said on the label, though I can't see anything wrong with it. It's been a slightly imperfect day, overall. The weather, after several days of sun and calm, has turned windy and gray--though still warm. Instead of sleeping in, I had to get up early today--not a perfect Saturday in that respect, but still a day off. Several potential buyers stopped by to see our apartment, which made me self-conscious about all of its imperfections: too much clutter and not enough paint. Nothing is perfect, nobody's perfect, but "we" search for perfection anyway: the perfect candidate, the perfect vacation, the perfect gift, even the perfect shave. And, as Voltaire said, the perfect is the enemy of the good. I really didn't want to end this with a cliche, you know. Maybe I should put my T-shirt on now . . .
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