We might be a little picky about arrow tuning, etc., but you have no concept of what It means to be a perfectionist until you experience my wife picking out paint. For the past six weeks or so, the walls of our family room have been covered with hundreds of little cards in varying shades of white. I have to take her word for it, because I'm colorblind and they all just look white to me. You'd think that would get me a by, but in the spirit of marital (or is it martial?) accord (or is it discord?) I still have to suffer through the agony. Then there are numerous paint splotches on the wall. Actually, an entire wall has been painted three times now, only to find out when the paint has dried that it doesn't match the splotch or the card. I'm not sure where this is all going to end.
Then there is flooring, which I do have an opinion on, because some types of wood look better to me than others. I have been asked my opinion on maybe 10-12 flooring samples, and have liked some and disliked others. No matter, all of them have disappeared back to the store to be replaced with new flooring samples the next day or so. I wonder why I'm asked? And not just casually; she follows up with questions as to why I like some and not others (I like the texture in that one; I don't like that one because it looks like a gym floor to me, etc.). And if I give up and don't give my opinion, she just continues to badger me until the path of least resistance is to give my opinion anyway, futile though it may be.
I love this woman, and want to spend the rest of my life with her, but I'm just stating the facts.