The sound of Jerry brushing his teeth filtered through his apartment. He was an aggressive brusher. So much so that he often made his gums bleed. And no, he did not have gingivitis. He simply brushed too hard.
Jerry was hard on himself. He was the type of perfectionist who could not admit (nor did he believe) that he was one. To admit it, would be to concede a deficiency. And concession was not a good strategy for productivity, productivity in advancement of the pursuit of perfect balance.
Before Jerry had a good job, he’d had many friends. He’d considered himself to be quite socially successful. And at the time, he’d earnestly worked at achieving professional success to round out this social success with a proper income and sufficient title. In the process, his free time dwindled. What remained of it, was spent with his three best friends, all of whom he still held dear. However. Now, he missed his fainter friends and acquaintances. He’d grown apart from them. The perfect balance of social life and career success was still outside his reach. When would it be perfect? What was the measurement? It’s likely Jerry wouldn’t be able to describe that. It’s likely he’ll never find it. It’s likely he’ll spend the rest of his life feeling like he isn’t living up to his own expectations.
The “perfect balance” issue (moderately) tortured Jerry in several areas of his life. Sometimes he realized the futility of his pursuit. But most of the time he did not. Many a golden moment was soured by the distasteful perfectionism of a man whose gums desperately cried out for reprieve.