Please don't laugh and please don't flame me.
Went out of town Monday, back home late today, and there in my mailbox was a rather ratty, beat-up looking Priority Mail envelope from Zen. OMG - it's here!
But I work nights and hadn't time to play, decided to wait 'til after work, got home about three hours ago, been staring at the envelope ever since.
And proceeded to have a completely unprecedented, totally out-of-character, full-fledged panic attack. Ya'll need to know that since college, aeons ago, the word most often used to describe me, is, 'competent.'
I can't open it. I'm ..., frightened.
I am mostly kidding but not totally. So, I came here to catch up on the thread and for confidence and support and guidance. About ten posts ago, I managed to unzip the cardboard thingy but still haven't found the courage to peek inside. I already know I'm too tired to attempt to use it. But I'd like to .... see it. Hold it in my hand. Find out what my serial number is. Etc.
Ridiculously overblown expectations and attendant fears. What if I can't do it? What if I totally.... um, err, mess it up? What if I am not good enough for my Zenesis?
I know it sounds silly. It is. Ya'll don't know me, but I once tackled a 1920's built house with no prior construction experience (only the ability to think in three dimensions). I caressed every creosoted heart pine 2 x 4, rebuilt every double-hung rope and pulley window, designed custom vents to fit in the floor joists so that I wouldn't have to spoil the ten foot ceilings with a dropped soffit just to install the A/C my lovely home had never had. I was ignorant and unafraid and wound up creating a Faberge egg of a jewel box home. Not house, home.
And, now I can't open the damned package....
Went out of town Monday, back home late today, and there in my mailbox was a rather ratty, beat-up looking Priority Mail envelope from Zen. OMG - it's here!
But I work nights and hadn't time to play, decided to wait 'til after work, got home about three hours ago, been staring at the envelope ever since.
And proceeded to have a completely unprecedented, totally out-of-character, full-fledged panic attack. Ya'll need to know that since college, aeons ago, the word most often used to describe me, is, 'competent.'
I can't open it. I'm ..., frightened.
I am mostly kidding but not totally. So, I came here to catch up on the thread and for confidence and support and guidance. About ten posts ago, I managed to unzip the cardboard thingy but still haven't found the courage to peek inside. I already know I'm too tired to attempt to use it. But I'd like to .... see it. Hold it in my hand. Find out what my serial number is. Etc.
Ridiculously overblown expectations and attendant fears. What if I can't do it? What if I totally.... um, err, mess it up? What if I am not good enough for my Zenesis?
I know it sounds silly. It is. Ya'll don't know me, but I once tackled a 1920's built house with no prior construction experience (only the ability to think in three dimensions). I caressed every creosoted heart pine 2 x 4, rebuilt every double-hung rope and pulley window, designed custom vents to fit in the floor joists so that I wouldn't have to spoil the ten foot ceilings with a dropped soffit just to install the A/C my lovely home had never had. I was ignorant and unafraid and wound up creating a Faberge egg of a jewel box home. Not house, home.
And, now I can't open the damned package....
, so I'm not the only one...
