Is there anything more magical than that first second you go wireless? Answer: no.
Every single day of this week has been filled with decisions from as tiny as “Do you want a sandwich or a salad for lunch?” to the big ones like, “What will we sleep on?” There’s a point yesterday when we’d had enough. No more decisions. We got cranky. I didn’t want to have to pick out the kind of wood for the desks we’re going to build, because I don’t know enough about wood. But I still had to make more decisions. What kind of side table? What kind of dresser? How much food will the new freezer fit? Do we need the big Airport base, or will the cheaper Airport Express do the same job for less money with less space (Yes. There’s no need to buy the big ol’ Airport Base Station anymore, unless you were running a room that needed more than ten computers online at a time). When do we want the bed delivered? When will the couch be here? When will we be able to unpack the sixteen boxes that are filling the office? Where’s the tiny screwdriver that I need to install the Airport card? Is it unpacked? Is it that box? What about that box?
I’m under a serious deadline on the manuscript now, and then suddenly I’m ripping open box after box looking for a tiny screwdriver, only to decide to go out and buy one, and since I’m out I need to get that thing and the other thing and every errand takes an hour and then I come back and it turns out I didn’t need the tiny screwdriver and it’s almost lunchtime.
Yesterday I thought I had the entire day off and was going to write the whole day. We then decided to run five errands. We finished at seven at night, when I made dinner, and then company arrived. So we got up earlier this morning to get more work done…
We told ourselves that we didn’t have to worry about the wedding until after we moved in, and we’ve been here just one week and now people are asking about the wedding plans again. This is a insanely huge year where every day I must make major decisions that I’ll be living with for some time.
Our to-do list is enormous, and every day we’re knocking a few items off it, but it can become so overwhelming sometimes. Yesterday stee and I whined that we wish we had time to read. “I just want to read a book!” I have three around the house that I’d like to open, but there’s never time.
I realize how incredibly lucky and happy we are, so I don’t want this to come across as complaining. It’s just exhaustion in the middle of what seems like an impossible list of deadlines.
Back to the manuscript. I’ll try not to let this wireless thing become the death of my career.
Ooh! Someone just sent me mail. And I’m outside.