If anyone's keeping score...

my architect came in first.

About a month ago, the race was on between my manufacturer and my architect: who was going to get me their  "goods" first? (By goods - I meant pillbags and revised plans, respectively, and by "first", I actually meant April 1st.) Turns out, my architect got the job done. Updated and revised, the latest and greatest version of renovation plans for the Gorman homestead were delivered to us at the beginning of this week - and walk thrus with contractors were conducted on Wednesday. As far as timeliness goes, these guys are earning serious brownie points, although I'm sure they'll try and stock pile them for later, when construction is stalled for days on end.

Of course, in my previous post about this, I'd concluded that it didn't really matter if either of them met my imaginary deadline. And it's true. It really doesn't. As I sit here today with a website ready to launch, cute packaging ready to be unveiled, and the concept of stylish pillbags prepared to go viral (!), I can only sit back and be patient while my manufacturer works out the kinks.

I could rant and rave about the delays (and I can be very good at ranting and raving), but what good will that do me? I'll get all hot and bothered, my stress level will rise, and I'm sure I'll say things that I'll regret. And I probably won't feel very good after a few days of successive ranting and raving...since R&R can rarely be switched off quickly. And in the end, I'll look pretty silly. Just as silly as I used to look when I would throw a mini-tantrum about taking a nap in the middle of the day.

As I've mentioned before, I used to just lose my marbles over my nap. No matter how casually and without condescension my husband would ask about my nap, I would get so mad when he'd question whether or not I'd been able to fit one in on any given afternoon. I wasn't mad at him - I was just mad that my life had to change. That things weren't going as I'd planned. That life had taken a turn.

And so I've learned to try and take those turns in stride. Not in complete stride...but in what I would call partial stride. I still get mad. I still lose my temper. I just don't let it overwhelm me. Lupus loves when I get overwhelmed...I think it's her favorite time of year...so I need to do everything I can to keep lupus from getting what she wants.

So here's to waiting patiently (albeit assertively) while my bags get delivered. Deirdre's waiting just as patiently for the Easter Bunny, so at least we'll be able to wait together!


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