Public service announcement: don’t be like me. Don’t chase every little interior rattle in that used car you purchased. It’s not worth the hassle or mental anguish. Take the car for what it is: imperfect. It gets me from point A to point B, and the air conditioning works superbly. What more is there to ask for?
Heck, even new cars are not immune from interior rattles. My 2013 model year Subaru WRX STI is kind of known for a rattly interior. Of course you can take your new car to the dealer to have the technicians there chase the sound for you. But then you’d risk introducing new noises when the techs inevitably take apart the interior to investigate. Or worse, they break a piece and don’t tell you about it. (Don’t ask me how I know.)
You know how just because someone is a pro in one domain, it doesn’t necessarily transfer to other domains? A Michelin three star chef might be horrible at playing pickleball. I think the same framework applies to my innate perfectionism and obsessiveness. Those qualities are a positive when it comes to my job. Attention to detail and comprehensiveness is what gets me paid. Let me sweat the details and point out areas of inadequacy.
The same qualities are a huge negative when applied to my hobbies. The compulsion for perfection sucks out the fun. And that is why we do hobbies, right? For the sheer fun of it. There’s a happy medium between aiming high and self-flagellation for mistakes. A medium I’ve yet to achieved. I just spend a solid hour Googling various causes and fixes for front dash rattles for my Golf GTI. What a waste of time! It’s a used car, the interior is going to make some noises. Get over it.
The problem is: I can’t simply turn down the obsessiveness knob. It’s me. At least the Michelin star chef can readily admit defeat against a pickleball master.
The legendary trashcan.