Lately I've notice a disturing trend... I'm becoming easily obsessed with small things. For example, I decided I needed a new rug for the hall bath. I develped very specific parameters: patterned, gray, but has to match the odd blue-gray of the walls, just the right size to not block the door but be bigger than the current rug, can't look cheap. I've looked at every store I've been to for weeks, gone to Home Goods twice, and searched Amazon for far too long. I've found nothing to match my standards.
As the search continued, the stakes got higher.
Now, I have to find the PERFECT rug. After all this time invested, if I purchase a sub-par rug, each time I use that bathroom I'll feel the effects of many wasted hours seeking perfection and will be grossly aware of the inadequacy of the rug.
Then, I remembered that I needed a new carry-on bag for work. I travel frequently, and my current system is not ideal. Checking a bag for a couple days trip is costly and inconvenient. And I have to bring my laptop, which I usually carry in my bulky and inefficient laptop bag, leaving me to bring my second carry-on item as either my purse or one of our old, junky small pieces of luggage. So if I don't bring my purse, I end up carrying my wallet, phone, and sunglasses out to dinner awkwardly. Or, if I bring a purse and put my laptop in my luggage, I awkwardly carry my laptop and charger in my arms to the office. It's dumb.
Which lead me to the approximately 12 hours spent researching carry on luggage on the internet, and visits to several stores.
My back hurts from hunching over the computer, my nights were wasted reading reviews and doing endless google searches. And now, again, stakes are high. After so much time invested, it has to be perfect.
I see this as another way I seek to find control in my life at a time things don't feel in control.
When I finally reach perfection, should that exist, I'll write a review. Until then, I guess I'll search for meaning in random purchases and ignore the glaring realities of a crazy travel schedule, an upcoming graduation party (and high school graduation) of my oldest child, signaling my advancing age and the end of an era.
Am I alone in this kind of obsession?