Today I wanted to take some photos (finally) of all the items I want to sell in my etsy store. All my dresses and onesies were ready to go with their cute little orange tags... all I needed was Dave's nice, expensive camera to photograph them. I picked up the camera, but unfortunately, it had the wrong lens on it. I took off the wrong one, and put on the right one. Somehow it never properly snapped in place and proceeded to fall onto our hardwood ("hard" being the operative word here) and broke. We're not sure how much it's going to cost to get repaired. I felt so awful.
It seems so ironic that it happened this week. I've been working through this program to overcome my anxiety and panic attacks, and this week happens to be the session where I'm supposed to focus on being assertive and doing things on my own. I'm trying not to feel defeated about trying to use the camera on my own, and failing. I know that if a good friend had done what I did, I would tell them that it was an accident, and that it's no big deal. There are more important things in life than broken lenses. Why is it so hard to tell myself the same things? I'm trying to learn how to put less pressure on myself, and lower my expectations. I am truly a perfectionist that wants to be good at everything. I never want to make mistakes and I want everything I touch to turn to gold. And, wow, does that sound unrealistic. I've got a little... or a lot of growing to do still, but I'm making progress. And that's what matters.
