But appearances can tell me otherwise. Mr. and Mrs. Perfect are everywhere.
ago my neighbors: the perfect little couple, polished like a book of the Comtesse de Segur, smiling like a blanket of Point de Vue, always from 4 pins. Madam, pregnant with twins, lives his life with the energy of a girl of 10 years and the wardrobe of Sharon Stone.
Me, I expected that one and I walked with the grace of which I Obelix also borrowed the uniform.
There are those bloggers who have given birth two days ago, and already lay Tickets consistent, entertaining, well put together.
And there are those who already call their corsets, their Louboutin and their mini-skirt.
Nine months later, jai still struggling to find time to do my hair properly and my skirts are a haven for mites.
There are those colleagues who are always all-time, who have all the answers, which never show any signs of nervousness, which seem to have swallowed every day the magic potion as they twirl a meeting in the other ....
And there's me: the smell in my computer, cursing, groaning, lying around ... .. my motivation like a buffalo's butt ....
There are people who do not change. 20 years later, they are thinner, more muscular, more tanned ....
There are those who always say the right thing, when necessary, always comfortable ....
They impressed me, I felt very small, ugly and stupid when I met a representative of their species ...
But now they bore me. Perfection is boring
like a long highway smooth and well lit.
Now, I prefer small bumpy roads, poorly stated but full of surprises, bumps, uncertainties, surprises. Perfection should not really be part of this world.
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