Just... So...

You know that feeling of... of something potentially wonderful happening, but you know at any moment the one single tenuous thread you have so far might snap, break, and disintegrate before you've had a chance to make that tremendously wonderful thing a reality?

When so far, all you have is... well, an email, really, an email that has the potential to fulfill your most wonderful hopes and dreams? An email is so intangible, so two-dimensionally bit mapped and inside a screen... But the implications, what the email communicates, could be the beginning of the realization of... wonderful things!

I don't think we as humans can help wanting to put all our eggs in one basket. I mean, we see the baskets--there are many of them! Some are weary and broken looking, some are okay, but not quite what you had in mind, and some are stand-out spectacular. And when you take your egg, your first egg, and place it in that first spectacular basket.... And you see the egg laying in that basket... You can't help but to want to put in another... and another... One by one, the eggs go in, and soon you've lost sight of the few other spectacular baskets that were there, because one has presented itself, and seems to do the job splendidly... Just perfectly splendidly...

I want this basket, and I want the hopes I've placed in it to hatch...

Some who shall remain unnamed (Okay, it's Rich...) are more... pessimistic in nature... He isn't sure we should be looking at the baskets at all, and that the eggs should remain in the fridge until further notice... He is more a worrier... More realistically pessimistic... Always looking at the numbers, the cost, the long-term implications, and mostly the unknown...

I want to embrace the unknown... He's still trying to see what the unknown is...

I'm so nervously excited, but it's all I can say at this point...

It's only an email...

But it's also hope...

You always hear, "Good things come to those who wait."

It's like when we were going to Dorney Park, or Grandmom and Grandpop Hughes's house, and mom would always inevitably say, "It's just over that next hill," and invariably point to the furthest hill the eye could see, whether it truly was just over "that hill" or not... But when you knew it was true, or believed it could be true, that made it all the more intolerable... The waiting... The hoping... The dreaming and planning you've done all inside your head...

Like placing the last card on the house of cards on the coffee table: You fear any breath, and movement ten rooms over will destroy this thing you've created... Or like the last number to fall through the lottery machine: If you hold your breath, cross your fingers, close your eyes, and repeat that last number over and over again, it just might be The Number, and all will be good and right. Like looking at the map that says "You Are Here" and "You Want to Be Here," and seeing the route to get there: with all the tolls, the miles, the gas, and the traffic... But knowing that just getting to the spot marked "You Want to Be Here" will be the fulfillment of all you dreamed, but never truly expected...

It will be a few weeks before it goes beyond email... There's nothing that can be done about that... Geography of the real world plays a huge role in that... A lot of things have to fall into place just so...

Just... So...

Let the intolerable waiting begin...