This week, I’m diving into uncharted waters – again. It seems for every new situation that arises in my business or personal life, I acquire another three skills I never wanted to have. But does that make me say, “Oh, wait, I don’t know how to do that; maybe I should get some help”?
Oh, hell, no.
‘Cause that would be sensible.
No, my response looks more like this: “Sure, I can do that. No problem. Is Wednesday okay?” *scuttles frantically back to computer to research arcane topic*
Last week, I learned basic ASP programming in an afternoon. It wasn’t one of the more enjoyable afternoons I’ve ever spent, but I got my web forms working.
This week, I’ve been reading up on discretionary trusts, crash-safety specs on 2012 SUVs, and how to get rid of pocket gophers. Frankly, rodent eradication has been the most relaxing and enjoyable part of my research. Those little bastards have been decimating my carrots. Messing with my garden is a killin’ offense.
…aaaand now that I’ve invited flaming hate mail from gopher-lovers…
Most people would consider my jump-in-with-both-feet approach to be at best, a liability, and at worst, sheer idiocy. I prefer to call it “optimism”. After all, I’m living proof that too much prep time isn’t necessarily a good thing. My only colossal failures occurred after years of training and/or preparation: my first career and my first marriage.
I dated my now-ex-husband six years before I married him, and my bachelor’s degree in interior design took four years to acquire, plus the extra two years it took for me to wrangle my failing thesis through the appeals process. As long as I cheerfully disregard the delicate issue of innate competence (and I do, oh yes I do), the cause of my failure in both cases was obviously “too much preparation”.
Since those massive failures, I’ve flown by the seat of my pants for everything from becoming a computer geek to installing granite floors to developing the optimum recipe for banana bread. And everything has worked out pretty well (including my second career and second marriage).
Thank goodness for my enabler: that source of great wisdom, pure bullshit, and occasionally, useful instructions – the internet. With the internet on my side, it’s actually possible to take on a ridiculously unrealistic challenge and come out smelling, if not like a rose, at least not like a skunk cabbage.
Problem is, I’ve been cursed with an unholy combination of do-it-yourself-ism and perfectionism. I don’t just jump in and do it, I jump in and want to do it well. I expect to come out smelling like a rose.
Which brings us back to that “optimism” thing again. Some may use the word “delusional”, but… pshaw. What do they know?
I realize this approach sets me up for more colossal failures. I can sense their vile miasma hovering just behind my left shoulder. Fortunately, I’m right-handed. My plan is to keep moving so fast that failure doesn’t have a chance to catch up.
And I don’t mind if people call it idiocy – I’m happy in my delusional little world. ‘Cause it has nice granite floors…