Patience . . . most definitely a virtue I don't have

But my sweet husband is trying to help me with that. Either that, or he's trying to torture me. Not sure which.
See, I have resisted the iPhone since I first learned about it. I've been strong. Not tempted at all. Until a couple of weeks ago when left alone at the mall. Matthew was skating with Mike and Molly was napping with my mom. And there I stood in front of the Apple store. First of all, I find the Apple store a little intimidating. Probably something to do with all of that technology packed inside. But, I had some time to kill, so I went in (thinking back to my conversation with my dear friend Andrea, who's exact words were "Girlllllll. You've got to get one (an iPhone). It's the bomb.com." Still somewhat resistant and intimidated, I picked one up. Then the little Apple guy probably looked at me and sensed blood. It was over. Amazing. I was in love and it was only for fear of dear husband that I did not walk out of the store with one at that very moment.
But I was hooked. Poor Mike. I feel sorry for him when I become obsessed. I wonder how long it took him to realize that this was one of those times? But, I do have an amazing, loving husband. Switching to AT&T (given the boycott that we have had against them for the past 8 years) and spending money on something as indulgent as an iPhone goes against every fiber of his being. But he has done it. For me. He switched me over and ordered me a phone--for my anniversary gift (our anniversary is tomorrow--more on that tomorrow).
So, what's the patience part? I'll tell you: he ordered it. As in, he didn't go pick it up at the store to succumb to my instant gratification gene. Now, please understand that I am not in any way complaining--I do realize this is a huge deal for him and I sooooo appreciate what he has done. But I'm waiting. And waiting. They were supposed to email me 24-48 hours after the order so that I could confirm shipment, then it would be 3-5 days until I receive it. Well, he ordered it on Friday afternoon. No email. Obviously, they meant the 24-48 business hours. (I hate business day differentiation). So, I'm running up to my computer every 30 minutes to check for THE email. I know. It's ridiculous. And I am well-aware. But I am also quite sure it won't get any better until my little bundle on technological deliciousness is planted in my hands.