It's really tough, actually.  

      I am too fussy for my own good, it's not healthy, even though, ironically, it probably is. It's my taste. The literal sense of taste. The buds on my tongue seem to dismiss a lot, which is often a problem - no one enjoys listening to me complaining about their cooking, I've found. Then there's the style taste. I am too hesitant and fussy when searching for a new pair of shorts, say. I nearly send the item to my bag, before noticing a flaw in the garment. Ah. I need to stop doing that, and move on. Just buy the damn thing, it's so much easier. Although it doesn't always work out that way. More often than not, I'll go to the trouble of taking the pair of shorts back, making up an excuse at the till that it's 'too big', and I want a return, 'please'. See the problems I go through? Over a new piece of clothing. It's not worth it. The worst, though, has to be presentation. I spend way too long perfecting and agjusting things. It lengthens the time I spend on projects drastically and, leads to late nights in which I am left on my bedroom floor, the night before its deadline. And even though I am so aware of it, it's too hard to control and stop it. Eugh.

Only a little, but a lot.