To the Type-A Person Having a Meltdown

To the Type-A Person Having a Meltdown(ˈmeltˌdoun)

If you’re not perfect, you’re worthless(ˈwərTHləs). I know the feeling.

By Mary(ˈme(ə)rē) Laura Philpott

Put down your phone and Post-it Notes for just a minute. I know you’re busy rewriting your to-do list in your head, first chronologically(ˌkränəˈläjiklē) and then in order of task magnitude(ˈmagnəˌto͞od) and then visually like a pie chart with different colors for each slice(slīs) of pie according to how long each thing will take, but you can spare(spe(ə)r) a little time.

I just want to tell you that your outfit(ˈoutˌfit) today is spot on. Are you wearing(ˈwe(ə)riNG) seasonal(ˈsēzənəl) socks? The rumpled(ˈrəmpəl), under-the-elbow(ˈelˌbō) half-roll of your sleeves(slēv) didn’t happen by accident(ˈaksədənt), either. You looked up a video tutorial(t(y)o͞oˈtôrēəl) online so that you could do it right, I bet(bet). And before you closed out the video, you probably left a review.

Not only does everyone find your appearance(əˈpi(ə)rəns) neat(nēt) and visually pleasing(ˈplēziNG), but we also admire(ədˈmī(ə)r) your emails, too. You have a real sense(sens) for when to go with bullet(ˈbo͝olət) points instead of paragraphs(ˈparəˌgraf).

The dinner you made for your book club last night had to have taken you hours to plan and execute(ˈeksəˌkyo͞ot). Did you use a vegetable(ˈvejtəb(ə)l, ˈvəjədəb(ə)l) peeler(ˈpēlər) or a paring knife(nīf) to get the sides of the cucumber(ˈkyo͞oˌkəmbər) to look like green-and-white((h)wīt) peppermint(ˈpepərˌmint) stripes(strīp)? That was a whimsical(ˈ(h)wimzik(ə)l) touch. People don’t think about that sort of thing enough.

I want you to know that I see your face when someone parks over the line in a crowded parking lot and wastes(wāst) a whole second spot, and I know your scowl(skoul) isn’t really about the parking space. When you stop to pick up trash(traSH) on a sidewalk or put the to-go menus(ˈmenyo͞o) back in their rack(rak) at the sandwich(ˈsanˌ(d)wiCH) shop, you wish you didn’t have to. You’d rather everyone else pulled their weight(wāt), but if they won’t, you will. Sometimes it feels like they slack off because they know you’ll catch whatever balls they drop.

This leaves you in a state of simmering(ˈsimər) low-grade(grād) resentment(rəˈzentmənt), and you feel guilty(ˈgiltē) about occasionally(əˈkāZHənl-ē) having the urge to throw your laptop at someone’s face. You wish these things didn’t get to you. You want to live and let live.

But I know you can’t help it.

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https://www.nytimes.com/2019/03/30/opinion/sunday/type-a-meltdown.html