Jilda and I played a gig at a nearby restaurant tonight. I think we did good, but it's hard to say because I'm always so focused on remembering words, and where my fingers are supposed to be at any given time, that I don't have a chance to listen closely enough to evaluate the performance. So after the show tonight, I instinctively started beating myself up a little. I'm really my own worst critic.
Time shift back to earlier this week - Jilda was reading an article in a women's magazine which was supposed to shed light on personality traits based on the day of the week you were born. Both of us take this stuff with a grain of salt, but she looked up my birthday and year for fun. She found out that I was born on Monday.
One of the things the article said was that people born on Monday's tend to be perfectionists. That's not the image that comes to my mind, but Jilda has a different view, and based on the evidence she shared, I would probably be convicted by a jury of my peers. I'm not sure I like that about myself. I mean I want to always do well, but perfection? It's an unattainable goal.
So, it is my intention to the best I can do in the future, and not worry so much about perfection....I don't care if I was born on Monday.