Fluking it

IT'S AMAZING HOW OFTEN I THINK I'VE GOT SOMETHING DOWN TO A FINE ART, only to discover at the most inopportune moment that said perfection was in fact, a fluke. Recently this was most hard learned in (but not limited to) Article 1: Holding my Drink; Article 2: Cooking Steak (in which my failure at Article 1 resulted in pan-frying my iPhone); and Article 3: nose-parking in John Lewis multi-storey (luckily I drive a complete Article, so feel more sorry for the steel girder).

The irony is that I'm increasingly becoming over-run with how-to and self-help books telling me how to do things perfectly. And after a particularly blunderous month, it's time to stop rearranging said books by height/ colour/ binding/ publication date/ author, and actually crack their spines. My Dad  always said there was an art to everything and found endless amusement in my artful predisposition for disaster. Well, cue the new improved me of efficiency and perfection, because with the help of what's on my book shelves I'm going to learn the right  (but probably more often the wrong) way to do everything. And if there are a few Articles along the way, well, I think perfection is for boring people anyway.