OK, OK, I know... two gushy posts in a row about my husband, but it's my blog and I do what I want, ya hear? Plus, I have a very good reason for this post. We are celebrating the end of two years (plus one year at MS State) of architecture studio work. For those who aren't familiar with the ins and outs of Architecture school, "studio" class makes up the bulk of the work in the years leading up to the thesis year. You have other classes during those years but they are mere blips on the academic radar compared to the all-consuming tsunami that is studio. For the last two years, studio for Paul has been a 10-hour a week class that has sucked in 40 to 100+ hours a week of work outside of class. He has pulled more all-nighters than I can count, not from trying to cram in all the work at the end of the quarter, but because even after 10 weeks of busting his you-know-what that is what it takes to turn out a project that he deems presentable. Yes, he is a perfectionist, and no, not everyone puts that much into studio work, but architecture is Paul's religion and he is a most devoted follower.
This last quarter he got into an honors studio that turned out to be the mother of all studios. In keeping with the Biblical metaphors, this studio was Revelations, the end of days. I didn't think it was possible but he worked harder than ever before, even leaving a day early from our Memorial Day trip to TN because he couldn't enjoy himself for thinking about all the work he had left to do. For the last three weeks he has basically been MIA around here and the term "architecture widow" crossed my mind more than a few times. Although I have to say most days he made a point to either stay a little longer in the mornings or come home a little earlier at night to play with Wilder -- something else that makes me proud to call him my husband.
However, his project was due to be presented yesterday and this past week he literally lived at the studio, only coming home around 5:00 AM most mornings to sleep for 2 or 3 hours and then leave again. Paul is scarily brilliant and talented and I'm not just saying that because I love him. But sometimes he second-guesses himself and this project never did feel quite right to him. After getting less than 8 hours of sleep in the last 96 hours leading up to presentation day he was beyond exhausted, mentally, physically, and emotionally, and was so worried that he was going to bomb. But, I kept telling him, what he considers mediocre or unfinished work would be considered by anyone else to be excellent. And, of course, after all that his project got rave reviews and studio is now over forever and we found out he got the Presidential Scholarship again this year.
So, yes, my husband is a genius and he will be so embarrassed by this post because he hates for me to say that but see assertion above regarding this being my blog, etc... I am SO proud of Paul for working so unbelievably hard the last two (really, three) years and especially for rocking that honors studio and especially especially for scoring that sweet scholarship. Now, excuse me, but I must get back to our celebration. If you call and can't reach us it's because we are sleeping or dancing or cheering or doing some other type of activity that two really tired, really happy people might do to commemorate the end of an era, the survival of a tsunami.