On your mark, get set ... nope.

LSW here. If the Vermonster is a classic Type A personality, then I'm the poster child for Type Z. He plans our budget down to the last dime ("Twelve cents of each paycheck will be allocated toward the fund for next year's Girl Scout cookie orders"), while my idea of budgeting is to get a statement at the ATM every few weeks to make sure I'm not overdrawn.

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.