Yesterday I woke late, intent to get more courseware done, hoping to get more text to Creoletrans, and had the hardest time getting momentum. As soon as I’d start rolling on the Etoys projects, an interruption would stop me, then again, and again. I call this stage of a creative project the “endgame,” when deadlines are looming and total focus and momentum are required. A lot can get done during these sprints, but it takes its toll.

As Paula later said, I was a “live wire” yesterday morning, though I did finally get into a rhythm after everyone left the house and got some good courseware work done. The Squeakland education team was meeting at 12:30 and though I had a 1:15 appointment to get some immunization boosters, I joined the meet to answer questions for half an hour, particularly for Randy who was creating the math unit we’ll be using in Haiti.

Instead I heard about the many things I wasn’t doing, which ordinarily would be fine, but in the stressed state I was in, I felt ambushed and got very defensive. So the education team got to hear me lose my cool, which in the year since we’ve been meeting hasn’t really happened. Later I made apologies, recognizing my bad behavior, but for pretty much the rest of the day I was angry about it all the same, which completely sapped my momentum and focus.

At the travel clinic, I was told I couldn’t get my booster because they had never heard of the “accelerated form”, which my Cambridge travel clinic told me was recommended by the CDC. I was basically sent home because they needed a script, and Passport Health doesn’t write scripts. So in my already angry state, I weighed my options in the waiting room . . . take a chance on Hep A and Hep B, or drive three hours round trip to another Passport Health where I could get the booster.

There’s a truth that makes all the difference, that we need to teach our children, that we need to remember ourselves. The truth is: there’s always another option, we don’t have to take someone’s word for it, that we can find creative solutions that no one is yet seeing, if only we keep looking. One person says you cannot do this. Another person says you must do this. Caught between conflicting constraints, there’s always a third unseen choice. If there’s an ultimate goal to our Waveplace work, it’s to teach and encourage this mindset.

So rather than go home and accept my two untenable options, I sat and thought and waited for option three. As usual, it’s the simple ones that work, as was the case here. I called my family doctor, explained the situation and my concerns about my Haiti trip, and he faxed a script immediately and I got my shot right there.

I later talked with Bill and Beth, which cheered me up considerably. Both of them have such great attitudes. We were joking about each other in a self-deprecating way, which makes me feel much better about the uncertain adventure we’re flying towards in two days. We’ve got a great team.

During our call, and afterwards, we rattled off last minute needs . . . power strips, mini-mice, three prong adapters, videotape, Clif bars, extension cords. I made a comment for Beth that this last minute stuff is the usual thing and Bill joked, “Usual? We’re a whole three days away. This is unprecedented.” We all laughed.

High acceptance, low expectation. What a contrast between the two phone talks. I’m really glad that Bill and Beth are on board.

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