May I brag a little?  I am an excellent parker, parallel and otherwise.  One look at my car’s bumpers, though, and you’d see that my vehicular handling skills haven’t always been so advanced.

The garage in my office building is a poorly lit labyrinth of narrow turns and awkwardly positioned posts.  As my Toyota will attest, I used to have a lot of trouble gauging the angles for optimal entry into a space.  Once, rounding a corner too fast and too sharply, I heard the sickening crunch of side panel meeting concrete.  I had to improvise some creative bodywork on the spot so I wouldn’t have to face my husband’s reaction when I got home.

Now I’m extra careful and much more accustomed to the ins and outs (literally) of the parking garage.  I approach it as a game, seeing if I can back into a space on the first try and taking great pleasure in a perfect execution. I admit, it’s become a bit compulsive.

Today I parked badly.  There were no dings or dented bumpers; the car was within the lines.  But it was crooked, and it really bothered me.  I resisted a powerful urge to go back and straighten it out.

If I’d spent the extra few minutes parking again, I would have been happier with the results.  But I also would have been late for my first appointment.  So I did a quick cost-benefit analysis and decided to adjust my priorities instead of the car.  Walking up to my office, I recalled the 80% rule:  since I value punctuality much more than parking, I could tolerate an 80% parking job.  Not perfect, but perfectly acceptable.   It’s a useful mantra for any perfectionist to remember.