To begin unpacking the forty boxes in my studio this week, I needed to build a big honkin' bookcase.
After measuring the space where it would go, I determined that the shelves could be six feet long.
This was great!
I could buy boards that were exactly six feet and not have to cut them.
I would need to make cuts for the side pieces and one for the support, then I could throw this baby together.
I picked the perfect day to do it. Sunshine most of the day. Rain in late afternoon.
I started a little behind schedule, but would have no problem beating the rain.
Two thirds of the way through my project I realized that all the boards I had already nailed into place were a half inch longer than they were supposed to be.
The remaining boards were the right length, but now they wouldn't fit. I had to take the whole thing apart and shave a half inch off the longer boards.
It began to rain. I was so angry.
I actually yelled and shook my fists in the air.
Erin ran out to see what had happened. Attempting to bring levity to the situation she mimicked the 'toddler speak' we do with Finn. "David is really angry right now."
I laughed...about an hour later.
I was so angry because everything had been going so smoothly. It felt like it was "meant to be." Now it was all falling apart.
As it turned out, the rain passed quickly. I was able to work at a more leisurely pace, finish the bookcase, and it was more enjoyable than trying to beat the rain.
It got me thinking about my belief that things go smoothly when they're "meant to be."
And how the unpleasant can lead to a more gratifying experience.
If I let it.