Apparently God chose not to give me any plumbing abilities at all. I tried to change the water filter under my kitchen sink this morning and couldn't get it to stop leaking. I had to call Greg, our super, to fix it. This is the kind of thing that makes me feel like a freaking faggot. It's another example of my perfectionism. I had to ask for help and I hated it. I feel like a "real man" (whatever that is) would have been able to do the job without the least difficulty. This, at least, I know comes from my father, who could have done the job with his eyes closed.
Only God is perfect, so I have to give up this idea that I have to be able to do everything perfectly and without any help. I think, like my friend Len, I have to work on accepting my own imperfections. Which really means just accepting myself as I am, without any judgment.
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