Many years ago, when I was looking for a job, someone told me that the best thing to say if the interviewer asks you to name your biggest weakness is, “I tend to be a perfectionist.” That way you’re oh-so-subtly giving them the message that you’ll work your ass off to get the job done right. Makes sense, I guess.
Except when it came time for me to actually try it out at an interview—it was for a summer job at a grocery store deli—I panicked and instead of saying, “I tend to be a perfectionist,” I said, “I tend to be an accordionist.” Luckily the interviewer wasn’t very smart, or musically savvy, and the store was desperate to hire people who had the upper arm strength to slice meat, so I got the job. But this was the first of many instances in my life when I’ve realized that the pursuit of perfection isn’t one I’ve ever been interested in, or capable of, making. I’m okay just being okay. And that’s okay.
All of that to say I’m excited to be part of a new anthology that’s about the futility of perfection. It was masterminded by Jen Mann of the People I Want to Punch in the Throat blog who has five or 100 books on the New York Times bestseller list. Dude is unstoppable. Here it is!
There are 37 stories in the book, all very funny and all about trying–and failing spectacularly–to achieve perfection. My essay in it is about one of my favorite topics ever, swimsuit shopping. Finding a new suit is especially hard this year now that I’m boycotting Lands End skirtinis because they weren’t nice to Gloria Steinem. Sigh. One of these years I’m just going to belt a Hefty Lawn and Garden bag and call it a day. It’s not like I’m trying to impress the lifeguards at this point in my life.
I’d love it if you’d order a copy of the book, either paperback or Kindle, and leave a review should you be so inclined. It’s already rocketing up the charts in the few days it’s been out in the wild, so people are definitely enjoying it. It’s perfect reading for the pool, the beach, the doctors office, the rental car shuttle, the San Dimas Women’s Correctional Facility, or wherever it is you’ll be spending your summer. Laugh with us, not at us, and feel better about yourself in the process.
How perfect is that?
–Wendi
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My grandpa is an accordionist.
True story.
(P.S. Congrats on the anthology! Hefty Bag suits forever!)