Things are really crazy and hectic at Temporary Wasser Manor at the moment. Shall we recap?
- Temporary Wasser Manor is only temporary, and therefore not ideal. There are times, for example, when I'd kill for a little more closet space.
- We're closing on the new Stately Wasser Manor in record time.
- We have eighty-three gazillion things to do.
- We need to spend a ton of money in a very short period of time. When we left SWM1, lots of little sundries got left behind. So now, for the first time since about 1995, I don't have any flour. Or laundry detergent. Or coffee, for Yoda's sake, to call my own. We are going to need to do some serious work to get New SWM fully operational.
- Steve is starting a new job soon.
- My own job is pretty darned new, too.
- Jack is two. 'Nuff said.
- We're in a new area, with no real friends yet.
- We need furniture.
- We need to find a good school for Jack to go to when Steve starts work.
The list goes on and on. Considering that when I'm stressed, I compulsively make lists, I have to stop myself from continuing. Suffice to say, we're swamped.
Well in the midst of all of this, the sellers of New Stately Wasser Manor offered to sell us their entertainment center. I really like what they've got, and it would be awesome not to have to spend more money buying something new, plus it's already where we'd want it to be. The issue is, would our monster TV fit in it? This TV is ridiculously big, so big that we have yet to find a non-ugly piece of furniture to house it, so big that if I tried to shove it across the floor, I'd probably hurt myself.
The TV, of course, is buried deep in our storage unit. Picture the storage area at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark, only with stuff packed from floor to ceiling, with only the tiniest bit of air between items.
Still, we've got to know if this thing will work. After all, we'd be wasting our money if we bought this unit (hee, hee, unit) and it didn't work.
So, Steve and I took a break from our usual stress and took on some more stress. On a swelteringly hot day, we went to the storage space, armed with a tape measure and a flash light. I scaled boxes and rickety towers of chairs. I couldn't get to the TV itself, but I could get to the armoire that we know is just a little bit too short for the TV. We could measure that. (We did, and we found out that the new piece would be too small).
I am really proud of the fact that, despite the all encompassing stress that surrounds us at the moment, despite the incredibly hot weather, despite the scary risky box climbing, and despite the weirdness of the whole situation, Steve and I got along perfectly. No one got irritated with anybody, we didn't have a fight. It was actually kind of fun.
I know plenty of people who have had to take a class before getting married. Steve and I had to fill out some worksheets to see if our values were compatible. But I don't think that's nearly as telling as some basic real-life tests that couples encounter.
I think that before you get married, you should have to put up a Christmas tree together. A real tree, so you have to get the damned thing straight in the tree stand and get the lights on it. Then, you should have to assemble a piece of furniture from IKEA. If you still want to get married after that, then you can.
It seems appropriate that this most recent Marriage Test, one that we passed with flying colors, happened on Father's Day. I am incredibly lucky to be parenting Jack with such a great teammate. Happy Father's Day, Steve.