There’s no Perfect Time for Your Pivot

Remember the little girl in church who would sit in a nearby pew and pick at her white stockings the entire service? Like how big could the blemish, nick or hole be?

Well, by the end of service mine was much bigger. See I was/ am that little girl. I obsessed about the tiny hole in church because to me, it wasn’t tiny. Its mere existence signified a problem which needed fixing.