Finish this sentence: “People who really know me can count on me to…”
Is your first thought a positive one? Because it doesn’t have to be.
I’ve been contemplating this today, especially considering this weekend’s checkbook-balancing debacle. Aaron wasn’t entirely surprised when I almost bounced a check or two—in fact, he’d jokingly berated me about my checkbook register habits not a day before I discovered my big whoopsie. (That’s how he calls my attention to something that bugs him: he jokes about it.)
I feel like I’m known for the things I’ll screw up. I’m known for procrastination to the extreme; for leaving dirty dishes to pile up unchecked for unhealthy periods of time; for leaving my clean clothes in the basket or on the floor; for having piles of papers stacked around my desk; for never unpacking boxes of random crap that I’ve been moving around since college; for staying up too late and sleeping too long; for being late (or almost-late) to work… and the list goes on.
Of course, I guess I’m also known for having relatively spiffy web designs and taking good photographs. I hope I’m known for telling it like it is, in a lighthearted and tactful way. I was once known for using really long words in conversation, and I’m still known for being able to spell them all.
Still, though, it’s troublesome to know that these more negative things are thoroughly expected of me. Even more disturbing is the fact that I’ve been trying to change these aspects of myself for years and years. How many times do I have to go on a self-improvement kick before something finally sticks in my thick skull?
And how long before I realize that beating myself up over my faults doesn’t make them go away?