However, in some respects, I'm very rigid. When The Boy was first born, I maintained a very regular schedule, which I believe is one reason that he sleeps so well at night. (That, and the fact that he takes after my side of the family in that respect; we loves us some sheep counting.) And in my professional life as a writer, deadlines are set in stone. There's no eleventh hour for me.
So today, when I heard the tale of woe about the septic test, my brain fritzed just a little. Up until this point, our mantra was, "It all depends on the septic test." That's what gave me structure; it made this crazy, chaotic adventure just a little more defined.
But now we don't have that, and I'm afraid of what this will do to the Vermonster.
We needed a definite starting point. Now we don't have one. We could build a cabin tomorrow-- or not. We could decide to clear the land and put in a well-- or not. We could do whatever we want. If only we knew that was.
I know it'll all work out in the end, but in the meantime, I'm afraid the stress levels just moved up a notch. Because nothing depends on the septic test.