The company I work for has its own fitness facility (it’s absolutely fabulous, by the way), and I try to frequent it a couple times a week. You know, just enough to try to keep my girlish figure and all. Anyway, as I was leaving the gym today (yes, I am beginning and finishing a blog in one day for the first time to date), I noticed that a friend of mine who was chatting it up with someone else outside glanced at what I was carrying: my work shoulder bag, my sports duffel, and a hanger. Wait, what was that last one? Something that aircraft are typically stored in? Of course not silly, it was merely a clothes hanger (not hangar with an “a”). On this hanger were the slacks and long-sleeved shirt I wore to work today. Well, I was not surprised that my hanger (for clothes, as stipulated above) attracted a bit of attention. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anyone else employ the same practice of actually hanging up clothes when one gets changed to work out and leave the gym with those clothes still on the hanger. I suppose that this practice defines me quite well. As I walked across the parking lot to my car, a few more thoughts danced through my mind.
You see, I instantly see the cause and effect of not using a hanger: if I try to fit my clothes into my duffle bag, they will wrinkle quicker and I will have to wash and – here comes the really tough part – iron them sooner. Since wearing clothes that are wrinkled to a moderate degree is simply not an option, I assume that if an article of clothing gets wrinkled or gets dirty, it results in more work for me. That connection comes easily to my mind, so I do whatever I can to minimize the amount of unnecessary manual labor that occupies my time.
I’m somewhat known for being a bit of a clean freak or for being particular about things in general. I’m a detail-oriented person and I don’t mind simply doing what needs to be done, so I guess it works out pretty well; my world has a fair amount of order. Well, here’s the kicker, and it has to do with dating and relationships and such, so I just know you’ll have an opinion on it. I was told by a girl I once dated that she just couldn’t handle the pressure of me expecting her to be as clean or as planned out or as particular as I am. I was pretty frustrated by this initially, then frustration gave way to sadness. I realized she had made the assumption that I would expect her to be like me. Well, I sure hope I’m smarter than that. If anything, I need a little chaos and spontaneity in my life to balance me out. And hey, I’m well aware that if someone is messy or disorganized now, they will probably be messy and disorganized in five years or ten years. I’m also aware that it’s not right for me to expect certain changes of people, and I believe these types of traits and characteristics fall into that category.
The thought I had that really spurned this blog though was this: depending on one’s perspective, one can see a perfectionist guy as someone who will always expect the same from you and thereby cast a shadow, or as someone who will help you be better. In a relationship, you work as a team (on varying levels depending on where the relationship is, of course) and I fail to see how having someone on your team who isn’t afraid to just do things that need to be done (like cleaning) or who enjoys eating more than top ramen and cereal is a drawback to their value as a team member, even if perfectionism is inherent in his persona. It all comes down to perspective.