Are you there, God? It's Me, D.

Dear God(dess/Allah/Yahweh/Buddha/Vishnu/Takuskanskan/Zeus, et al.),

Seriously, what have I done to offend thee so? I'm not trying to dismiss my imperfections - and they are many - and I'm not trying to sit in judgment of others when I write this (truly!) - but am I as bad as the Tony Haywards or Rush Limbaughs of this world? Because I bet their houses haven't been under construction for four years, and I have to wonder - pretty much every time I pick up the paper and see a stream of viciousness, vile, and oil spewed forth to sully this beautiful world you all have put together - you know, the one I have devoted my entire career and much of my "free time" trying to protect from the whims of these crazy creatures called "humans" you chose to invent for reasons I'm sure you don't remember anymore, either - I can't help but feel a bit of resentment about their (respective) $18 million reward for overseeing the biggest environmental catastrophe in the Gulf and five house compound complete with a miniature version of the Biltmore Library - an offense to those who actually seek wisdom and truth if there ever was one.

I'm not even asking for a 24,000 ft2 mansion with cherubs dancing on the ceilings of my library or an $18MM golden parachute and transfer to Russia. I'd just like to finish a 500 ft2 addition without going into bankruptcy or the insane asylum. But while we're on the subject of libraries, I would also like to be able to sit on our worn out sofa to read a book without ending up covered in cat hair, although I know the vacuum is clearly under my control (I'm just saying, if you could engineer a cute and furry cat that doesn't shed, that would be perfect - and that bald sphinx cat thing clearly had to be a joke in response to someone else's prayer who fogot to specify that they wanted a cat with fur that didn't shed. I'm guessing they didn't realize your penchant for specificity, which should be obvious from all the laws you've set forth. So, while I'm thinking of it, if this new cat didn't want to naturally shred the furniture, yowl at 5am for no reason, or use its bodily functions as a means of expressing displeasure, that would involve major bonus points.) (But let me be clear, I can totally live without my dream cat - that's more of an extra-curricular project if you're interested. I'm here about the addition. But you know how I always digress.)

I remained optimistic when you sent that weird tornado-like storm through our neighborhood yesterday and took down half the trees in the area that the power would be on in time for the drywall guys to come in today and sand the mud so we can finally paint, so we can finally put in the floor, so we can finally put up the glass block wall and finally move on with our lives. I did not ONCE complain about not having A/C last night - not even silently, in my head. If you were listening, you would have heard my usual optimism saying "Well, at least there's a cool breeze tonight! Could be worse!!" You saw me reading my book on the roof garden by glowstick - you did not hear me complaining! You heard me enjoying the night air and the sounds of your multitude of chirpy insects (I'm sorry if flicking that spider off of me offended you - i'm sure it didn't get hurt, though). And when the power finally came on at 7:45am - right before the 8am deadline to let the drywall guys know whether they could work today - I thanked you, but was not surprised. I knew you would come through.

It's when I heard the transformer behind the house explode as the power shut back off at 8:15 am and stayed off, despite my pleading with you on actual bended knees to turn it back on before 9 am pretty, pretty, pretty please with sugar on top, pleeeeeeeeease!! and yet off it remained and then, to top it off, the drywall guys now can't come to work until Tuesday, that I was reminded of Job's most famous line: Oh God, why hast thou forsaken me?! I'm sorry, I know that when Job said it, you were gravely disappointed, and so you're probably none too pleased with me for thinking it, either. But there's only so much the human spirit can endure, you know?

I know, I know, I'm a drama queen. You made me, though, so you get what you pay for, I guess. But seriously, consider this a formal petition: please, Lord, let my project go. I'm sorry if I built it on a sacred burial ground or the font of your perpetual anger. Like Eve, I didn't really know what I was getting into here - I was lured by the slick talk of a snake and a heavenly (i.e., Dwell-worthy) design. You would have fallen for it, too, had you been facing the real estate market of 2006 when you made this decision. But anyway, I'm really, really sorry, and I beg your forgiveness and I know there are googles of things that are vastly more important than the construction plight of one silly girl (and boy) - wars, floods, famines, diseases, etc. - seriously, I get that and feel guilty for even bothering you about this. But if you have a little extra time - just a second - we could use your help in bringing this project to closure before I lose my mind. I'm not even asking for a return of all my previous good fortune seven-fold (besides, if we had 7 cats, I think the boy would move out, so one is cool), I'd just like peace.

Yours truly,

D.