The perfection bug sinks its teeth into my skin
When my director and I wrapped post production on the documentary, I rang the concierge bell on my desk, gave him a high five and pumped my fist towards the sky.
What a moment. Two and a half years of work, finally coming to fruition. Hallelujah. Beautiful feelings of satisfaction and relief and pride washed over me like a tidal wave.
Five minutes later, I felt a twitch in my left eye. And I realized, wow, I could easily spend three more months making this movie fifteen percent better.
Think of all of those scenes and sounds that would benefit from a quick once over. Maybe we could push the deadline back till next year?
No. Don’t you dare, I reminded myself. Stay away from that goddamn treadmill. Don’t even think about scratching unless there’s really an itch. Finished is the new perfect.
And so, I snapped out of it. I sidestepped the seductive trap of perpetual improvement. And we began distributing the documentary two weeks later.
Phew. Close call, though. Turns out, I’m just as susceptible to resistance’s trickery as the next guy.
Have you ever asked yourself why you procrastinate?