I’m a mistake machine. And to prove it, I made a mistake about 30 minutes ago by posting multiple versions of a draft I had wanted to save for later (editing is best done on a full stomach and lotsa o’ coffee).
When I say I make mistakes, I mean the tiny boo-boo ones that kids might make, like forgetting to close the garage door on the way to work, or forgetting to open the garage door before reversing through it.
Or the time when I delivered chinese take-out to the wrong address, then getting lost in the neighborhood for the next hour trying to find my way back to the main road.
I make lots of mistakes. Most of them stem from my impulsivity, that tendency to act before I think too much. I think a lot, don’t get me wrong, but when it comes to the simple things, I fail.
Fail, such a powerful word in the English language. We fail to meet the needs and expectations. Missing the mark, as it were. I’m a failure because I’m a mistake machine. A machine that doesn’t run properly, meeting its potential and the expectation of others.
I’m a failure because I make mistakes, even the small ones. The big mistakes are just icing on the failure cake. See, I can’t even post the relevant image to go with this blog post. Coffee? Where did that come from….