One of the requirements in my job description is “detail oriented.” My position requires someone who can manage the small details of large events, from the type of china used by a catering company to using the correct letterhead for every document, depending on which division of my office it is coming out of.

However, when does detail-oriented become silly? When does obsessing about the type of ribbon used to wrap a gift stop being an important detail and become a waste of valuable time. What if the gift is a token of appreciation for a friend? An important colleague? The President of a University? Of a country?

I understand that the majority of my job is all in the presentation- if something looks good, it reflects well on me, my boss, our office and the University we represent. At the same time, if the people we are meeting with are going to have their opinions swayed because we ordered chicken dish with capers instead of chicken dish with olives, do we really care what such a shallow person thinks?

I was taught, back in my touchy, feely kindergarten class that no one is perfect, but that everyone should try their hardest. So when someone re-arranges the letters in an acronym on a program and no one notices until after that program is handed out to 200 people, including the leader of a country, presidents of universities and leaders of companies like Coca-Cola and GE, what can you do but shrug and say, “Oops.” There are those that would ream out all 4 people who proof read that program, others who would fire the person in charge of the final draft (like the woman in Devil Wears Prada).

So when does caring about the details become obsessive-compulsive behavior? If I am detail oriented enough to keep all my pen caps on, color code my file folders and double check sure every invitation to every event goes out on time, that’s good for me, right? But if I must keep all the pencils in my pencil cup sharpened to a 1/2 inch point and at a 45 degree angle, or must open and close a door three times to make sure it is locked, that’s not healthy. When I call the woman who supervises the mass mailing of our invitations every 20 minutes to check in, that’s annoying.

I put together 12 drafts of the same program for a symposium today. This is after the intial mock-up and feedback stage. In each draft, something needed to be changed; font size decreased, type of bullet shape changed, text edited, typos corrected. After 14 drafts and four sets of eyes proof reading it, one would think it would be perfect. But while waiting to see my boss, a visitor to the office flipped through the latest draft sitting on the ledge over my desk. Before he walked into the meeting, he handed it back to me and said, “The date says 2006, not 2007. You might want to fix that.”

On to draft number 15.