Is it normal to make perfectionism a paradise?

Perfectionism is a paradise, after all the hard work of making something perfect, when it becomes perfect I feel like having a blue Hawaiian and relaxing in a hammock, and to be the perfect Australian and I've done it before, I like sitting in my "office" with my Australian flag and koala eating a lamington. There was a time when I was a patriot, I had precise political discipline over devotion to my nation, I even read the newspaper "The Australian" growing a long beard eating Vegemite. To be or not to be, that's the question, whether to be a patriot or an Adelaidian, they both feel safe to me. Vegetarianism and being Australian is an oxymoron, the perfect Australian is cooking sausages on the barbeque. As for the perfect American, an individual person who loves the American flag and supports Donald Trump, drinks Coca-Cola with friends (Australians also drink Coca-Cola with friends, ironically enough), but it turns out real Australians obey the laws of their country, and Australian criminals aren't acting like typical Australians but are stealing, shooting, hitting and fucking women illegally, there are Australian stories of famous Australian criminals but these outlaws are false patriots. The perfect Australian crime is never getting caught, and though it's no picnic it's certainly a paradise if you're not in trouble with stolen goods: imagine a stolen television and you're watching your favourite game show, exactly!, it would be a criminal's paradise whether it's Australian or American or New Yorker or Adelaidian. Is that normal?