Punctilious Persons

Society judges us by our actions and often times they feel the need to find the DNA connection between us and our respective families.

In my life I would most definitely read as a Nancy Drew book called, “The Matter Of The Hidden DNA series.” Why you may ask? Because my inherent family traits are so intertwined with my own bizarre programming.

For instance, the women in my family are at times annoyingly punctilious about their appearance . The will comb their hair a million times to get it just right where not even one strand of hair is out of place.

They will look at the finished product in a 3 dimensional view and if for some reason it does not pass inspection, it is going to be another few minutes or so before they reach their perfection status.

If you happen to be waiting for them to go to an affair, you end up feeling stale while they are the picture of elegance and conscientious grooming. Or, you may fall asleep and miss the whole affair altogether.

At first I thought it was due to the fact we were exposed to schooling in the Caribbean where grooming standards were high. Yet, when I reflected, I realized there was no higher scrutiny than being trained by nuns in convent school.

Whilst I was attending Convent School I was not allowed to have creases in my school uniform, because of that I would sit side ways in the car or prefer to walk to school just so I could look crisp and pristine.

We were taught the art of paying attention to details which included, our quality of work, styling our hair, manicuring our nails and carrying ourselves in an appropriate manner. If any of these duties were not adhered to there were demerits given and we would be fined.

Nonetheless, as I matured I remained on task with my grooming but I had to tweak it for everyday purposes. Let’s face it, who has time to spend hours primping and preening to get every strand and crease straight?

Although I had moved on past my stringent training and had altered it to fit the modern world I realized many of my family members did not. They continued to be neat and fine in their ways about everything which at times was a buzzkill because they could not have fun as a result.

Don’t get me wrong, it is not that I prefer a mess around me or to appear unkempt but I do feel sometimes when we strive for so much perfection it makes us appear as though we are trying too hard.

Many times when people put all their efforts into maintenance of themselves and their surroundings when one thing goes off kilter it ruins their mood, the whole day, and they are just not able to enjoy the moments in life that will never pass through again.

I would much prefer to look pulled together in an uncomplicated way and have a good relationship with others than appear buggered because my goal of perfection went awry.

We all know these type of folks. If the house is not shining from top to bottom all is not right in their world and even if the most fortuitous events are happening they are not in the least bit enthused because their world is not in perfection mode.

Whilst growing up, I experienced the scathing comments of critics suggesting I was not as punctilious as my family members. Yet, although I appeared to be well groomed the penny section would often have tons to say just because I chose not to spend hours preening.

The truth is, my attention to details comes in other ways. In observations regarding people, their ways, actions and business acumen, I do not miss one step. I am quick at assessing situations and people and I am rarely wrong.

The things that others never seem to focus on which can be quite detrimental or important to them I somehow zone in on them like a rocket. So, when people try to make me feel as if I am a freak of nature because my family is one way and I do not emulate them in any way I have to chuckle.

Only those who know me quite well will attest to the fact that it is a rare occurrence when someone gets to pull a fast one over me. My family may be meticulous when it comes to aesthetics. Me, I am the radar that can track BS a mile away.