raking leaves perfectly

I'm raking leaves again. It's not because I want to. It needs to be done and I need to get out of my head and do some physical labor. That doesn't stop my brain from thinking about perfection and failure. I want to be a perfectionist. I want everything in the world to be as I envision it - that's my perfection. But then again, I want to be surprised, I want there to be new and exciting things that I can't even imagine. So why should I get frusterated when I know the instant I come in and take a shower after raking, that the beautiful straight lines in the dirt will have yellow leaves across them, like a music signature. I create the blank lines for the trees to write the music on. (However a few moments ago, I didn't think of it like that - they were just more leaves to rake.) I don't want to be a specialist - a genius in one or two things. I want to kick ass in EVERYTHING I do. I know that's a hard thing to accomplish, but that's the point. (The journey is the destination, blah blah blah.) And I do generally do better than average in most things I do. So why is that not good enough for me? Where is the satisfaction, the contentment? Maybe all these thoughts are in my head because this is the second day without coffee. It's like leaving the house without my wallet, cellphone or keys.