I can be such a nag. The person I nag the most is … wait for it… Me. I’ve been on my case for over a year to fix this bloody baseboard in the bathroom properly. I fixed it once already using the half-assed approach and for some unknown reason it didn’t come out as planned. I even got married, thinking that might be a viable solution to getting the job done. No such luck. The busted baseboard outlasted our relationship. (In case you are wondering, the unfinished fix-up didn’t contribute to the relationship breakdown; the unplastered basement wall did, but that’s a post for another time.) At one point I had myself convinced to live with the damn thing and, for once, not be such a perfectionist. Then I picked a small hole in the paint, for what reason I don’t bloody know, and now it not only speaks to me every time I sit on the toilet, it winks too. So the nagging continues. Perhaps I’ll have to set boundaries with Myself and tell her assertively “No, I will be unable to fulfill this request.” Or I could take the passive aggressive approach and tell her I’ll do it but not follow through. Decisions decisions.