“Don’t be a crank,” she murmured to herself, catching herself for the thirtieth time in as many moments raking herself over the coals for the oversight she had made during the afternoon board meeting.
Two equally vocal self-parts were at war within: the part that finds any slight error a reason for killing oneself out of shame, and the part that longs to forgive and generously allow for such things, eager to defend well-intentioned human error at any moment.
Somewhere in-between those two internal parts sat a third part watching the whole thing, a part knew that both defense and crucification over such a thing as an error were sheer wastes of precious life energy, and so patiently awaited their voices to lose steam to get back to the moment at hand, which this part knew as the only moment that really mattered or even existed anyhow.
*Crank describes me after I realized that I totally spaced last night. I was studying for a job today, and somehow, I thought I wrote a blog post when I didn’t.
My internal Perfectionista is truly berating me for the oversight. But thankfully, no one’s like is at stake if I forgot for the second time in many, many months of fulfilling my commitment to myself to create at least once a day.
I guess yesterday I did create — I created a state of confusion!