16 Million Records Take a Long Time to Copy.

I'm a little bit stuck at the moment. I'm working on this fairly large project (UK Incoming Passengers Lists from 1878-1960, in case you were curious) and because it is so huge, this query to transfer everything to the right database is taking its sweet time. I've worked on every other non-SQL-related thing that I could, but now...

Stuck.

Normally I would bask in the glory of being forced to take a break, but here's the thing-- I have two rather complex projects due tomorrow. And I need every second I can get! Isn't that awful? That I care that much?

And then I got to thinking... and this not an unfamiliar feeling. This is a somewhat unhealthy trait that I've had for as long as I can remember.

*I want to be perfect, and I do NOT want to get in trouble.* (This being unhealthy, seeing how sometimes I completely stress myself out about it.)

I vividly remember the first time I got in trouble in school. Place: Herbert Mills Elementary School, Reynoldsburg, Ohio. Year: 1991 (First grade). Activity: Drawing a picture of what we had done the previous day.

My fellow classmates and I were quietly concentrating on the task at hand. I was focused on my beautiful drawing of my brothers playing with me in the rain, complete with umbrella and rain boots. I finished myself and my brothers, our house, the trees, the grass... all that was left was the rain. I picked up a light blue colored pencil and started dotting the paper with little dashes to make the rain.

It made a light "tap! tap! tap! tap!" sound on the desk.

It was only a few moments later that I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Miss Johnston, my nice, young, sweet, pretty teacher. "Tiffany," she said in a gentle whisper, "can you try not to be so loud sweetie?"

I. Was. Mortified.

I don't remember if I actually sobbed or if I was just painfully on the verge of tears. I just remember it was the worst feeling in the world.

It's kind of funny, because I feel like I'm pretty laid back about so many other things in life. For example, I don't get bugged that Sean never ever changes the toilet paper.  Not kidding, he will without fail get a new roll out and place it on top of the empty cardboard tube, instead of throwing the empty one away and switching it out. No no, instead of being bugged, I am secretly keeping a tally of how many times in a row he has done this. And when he gets to 100, I plan on giving him some sort of prize.

So why is it that there are certain situations that I just completely and utterly over-stress? 

You know what I think it is... besides my difficulty in accepting that I am not instantly perfect at everything (which I'm getting better at it, thanks in large part to my decision to learn to play tennis)---- I have this fear of authority. Getting scolded by a boss/professor/dance teacher... terrifying! (But then again, I'm pretty sure anyone would be terrified of Colleen when she's upset, especially when you know your battements [*baht-ma's] weren't as high as they should have been...)

A fear of authority. It made me a wonderful little kid, but as an adult... I think it's time I loosened up a bit.

So I'm going to do everything I possibly can-- I can still at least try to be perfect, right?--but come end of day tomorrow, what's done is done. And what isn't, will count as delayed, and-- oh well.

As Modest Mouse so aptly reminded me by just popping onto my Pandora-- We will all float on alright.


p.s. I couldn't find a good picture on google, hence my re-creation of the mentioned work of art. I'm pretty sure I drew houses like that when I was seven.