Today was one of those frustrating days on the Lab. Simple projects that should be quick hitters but just don’t seem to come together. Choose one. Get started. Hit problems. Set it aside. Choose another, and hit more problems. I started second guessing the solutions we came up with in the first place until I finally set everything down, and sat on the bench leaning against the back wall. Just me staring. First to the left where the solution for our future sink & galley was escaping me. Then to the right where the attachments for hanging our window curtains were mocking me and my apparent incompetence.
It was the beginning of a downward mental spiral. One thing. Then another and then is everything we’ve ever done wrong? Are our plans destined to fail? I got bummed.
Then I got angry. Angry at myself, at my business partner Tim. At us as a team. What was wrong? Exhausted with all the frustration I let my mind go blank. Then I looked around again, and started seeing little things that were good. The reclaimed wood meshing with the painted grey wall. The flooring which turned out epic after causing so much stress in the first place. What the fuck. Why isn’t this bus done and out there yet?
Then I realized the answer. We’re the problem. We want it to be perfect and we’re coming up with reasons to make things harder for ourselves instead of just keeping shit simple. K.I.S.S. was the first lesson I learned in design school and probably life if I could remember back that far. Simple equals operational. Operation equals less stress (ha ha), and a chance to start getting feedback. A chance to put our customers feedback into action. A chance to build our community and show all these people where their money went after they donated to our crowdfunding campaign. When we bought the bus. To show our families why we’re scraping pennies and doing a lot of D.I.Y over and over to get things right.
I grabbed a contractors pencil and started making notes on some painters tape I found near me. After I affixing the third 6-inch piece to my my pants I made myself get up, walk the the five feet to my notepad and transfer my new simplified ideas down. As I wrote I thought, “This can be done in a week.” It gave me hope. It gave me…Stoke. And I started to make plans for tomorrow.