I'm not perfect. I hate making mistakes.

I will admit: I often write posts when I'm in a... certain mood...a particular emotional state, if you will.

Gosh darn it, if I ever do go back and read old posts and I see typos or glaring mistakes...
 I just want to punch myself in the face.
It's unacceptable.

I do go back and make corrections, and rework the writing, from past posts quite often.  I fix my mistakes.

Maybe...  Hmmm... I think about the things I wrote from a different perspective...
Or I just realize that what I wrote was too crazy, even if I was feeling it at the time.
I always want to fix things.  I want to fix all things and make all the things in life--my life--just right.  I want to, and try to with all my might, make everything how it should be, and what I want it to look like, and feel like.

I'm a fixer.  I'm a corrector.

Gosh, wasn't that my job?  It wasn't to fix or correct student work but to at least mark it up and help them learn how to fix it on their own.  I would write encouraging suggestions, or compliments, to balance the red marks, circling typos and misspelled words.  Ha.  Okay.  Yes, I would sometimes write, "Um...  Did you spell check this, or even read it before handing it in?  How about you do that, print it again, and give me that new copy.  We will recycle this one, so we don't waste paper."

Oh, snap.  Mean teacher.  Mean Mrs. Coleman...

But, for goodness sake...  I spent so many hours with essays spread all over a table in front of me, or on our queen sized bed at home, and I would read every word, and take great care and time with each piece of writing...  To get to a moment where I realized that the student didn't take any care at all...  I was not pleased.  They stopped that nonsense within the first month of my class.

When I read my own writing and see typos, I fix them, of course, but first I cringe... then I realize no one really reads this, or maybe they aren't noticing them, or they are reading it as a whole--seeing me, and my thoughts as a whole--and aren't hung up on... my mistakes.

I'm the one who is hung up.  I'm the one stuck on the mistakes.

And I wish I could fix every damn thing, not just in my writing, or in anyone's writing, but in life... in life.  In Life.

I have to stop that, huh?