D-Day.  It wasn’t good then and I didn’t anticipate it being good today either.  The unloading of the first shipping container has been a source of stress for everyone in various levels.  Weeeeeell, that might be a stretch.  I was stressing it, the Planner’s dad (the Doubter) is helping and he is slightly stressing, so inadvertently it is stressing the Planner.  The box has been sitting on the trailer for the last week taunting me.  It’s so much taller and longer and more complex when sitting on its perch overlooking its kingdom.  Every day since its arrival from big city #1, the removal process has been cussed, discussed, and cussed some more.  The only thing left to do it actually remove it. Get it done already. Like peeling a bandaid off. Or in this case it could be a festery bloody scab. Hard to tell.

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Preparation and practice for the removal process went as well as expected last week in big city #1 during Suspension Moves.  So I was told and since I wasn’t there I have my doubts.  Brackets were made to assist in the transition down the trailer (not off and over the side like I see it in my head), piping was brought to help roll container along the trailer bed so as to not drag along the railing and decking, high lift jacks were bought and used, and heavy duty ramps were made from heavy truck frame channels to guide the container off the trailer onto to ground.  Sounds like things were well thought out.

Of course, things went smoothly because the Planner does well under high stress situations. Not me. I tried to drink my weight in diet drink. If I coulda, I woulda just inserted an IV of diet drink straight into my veins. Having to hold the 44 oz cup with straw was too much damm work. But don’t worry, the Planner sucked down his beloved “Nectar of the gods” just as fast as he could manage and the Doubter could be seen drinking his tiny little 12 oz bottle as time allowed. When viewing the 10,000 pictures taken and GoPro video recorded, the Doubter looked calm, cool, and collective. Like this crazy act was a walk in the park. “Sheeeet, back in my day….” Yeah, that is exactly what his face said. “Sheeeeet”. The Planner never looks stressed, really. Me, on the other hand, will age before my time because of the sheer amount of stress. Hence the reason, I am Stressed Out.

And much to my dismay and stress, the removal went fairly well.  There was only one moment of total stupidity, an act of idiocy, an “I can’t believe we did that!” resulting in the forgotten moment of such a simple step.  It was a total Homer Simpson palm to the face moment. What’s worse, this temporary lapse in repetitive action had nothing to do with the container at all. Later, after all was said and done, did the severity of what could have happened from this forgotten moment settle in.   During the discussion, they laughed at the level of calm in which I stated this forgotten moment so it could be rectified IMMEDIATELY! 

See, that’s the thing. The Planner does well at planning and I excel at in the moment situations.  But boy howdy, let me tell you, afterwards, I always suffer from extreme adrenaline rush. The retrospect of this moment made my stomach cramp.  Good thing that crap only a couple of minutes.

I can admit when I am wrong, and hindsight is 20/20.  However, the next box will be unloaded without the help of the Doubter and with that comes a whole new level of stress. With a job done things can be funny. Of course, I don’t always think what the boys think is funny. The Planner is making fun of my stress face, the Doubter is laughing at the Planner, and the Kid is wondering when he can dig holes again. Laugh it up now buttercups. Next time, I got a plan.  Two diet drinks!