The Way in Which Things are Done

Today's prompt:  Describe a person you know who does everything slowly and methodically.
Oh, do I know someone.  He wears a belt at all times, has a seating chart for all articles of clothing in his dresser, gets his hair trimmed every three weeks without fail, makes mathematical calculations on paper before hanging pictures in the living room, and takes pride in the fact that his lawn is the greenest and most lush on the cul-de-sac.  He's industrious, tenacious, and exceedingly careful.  Yes, he's my husband.
I prefer to depend heavily on the pictures in the instructions to guide me, and look for tools as I need them.   When I get stuck, I just look back at the directions and hope that I haven't already ruined something beyond repair.  This is how I was raised, and so far it has worked out just fine for me - with the exception of a few mishaps.

The man I married is the polar opposite of me when it comes to project planning, implementation, and thoughtful summarizing of said project.  Example A:  One Christmas, we were up late putting a play kitchen together while the kids were sleeping.  My sister was also present for this event.  We let the "Head Engineer" snap all the big components together - after an agonizing hour of watching him lay out all the instructions, Allen wrenches, and stickers - all in the order in which they would be needed. (Smart - right?)  As my sister and I were starting to tire, we thought, "Surely, we could help out (and expedite the process) by slapping a couple of the stickers of play food and microwave buttons on their designated spots."  We were mistaken.  We were not-so-kindly asked to leave the premises.

Little did I know at the time of matrimony that this would be the way with everything: the assembling of garden hose reels, lawn care sprayers, and kickstand attachments to bikes. As well as with the installing of smoke alarms, shelf building, and my favorite - the blowing up of inflatable pools with all of their accouterments.   I shouldn't complain, everything is done with precision and care - and stays put together for a long time.  And if I were just a bit more methodical, I might not have as many nail holes in my walls where I miscalculated and I might have actually added the chicken to the Chicken Tettrezini before I served it to my guests. 
It just seems that there ought to be a happy medium between the two worlds of paying no attention to instructions and reading all instructions as if they might hold the key to immortality or world peace. Right?