This one is definitely on topic.
I can well understand your dilemma, Scott. There is a lot more to building, or rebuilding a boat than trying to get a boat that suits you.
There's been heaps of good and practical advice from great and practical people. However, I think at this stage of the game, you perhaps ought to sit down somewhere with a pen and paper and write out just what you are trying to achieve.
Comments have been made along the lines of 'don't worry about the bits that no-one is going to see'. This is exactly how professionals build boats - or at least professionals who have a budget to meet. But in many ways, this is exactly how amateurs - we who do it for the love of it - don't build. One of the things that I hated about my fibreglass boat was all the bits that 'no-one sees'. I certainly could feel them when my fingers were speared by sharp ends of glass as I tried to clean out the lockers.
I'm not building my boat to impress other people: I'm building her for me. So when I go to get something out of the locker, I want it to be a locker that I can keep clean without hurting myself; to look 'nice' so that I won't wish I had gone to the trouble to finish it off properly at the time. I want to know that I filleted all the corners that can't be seen, but are still important to the longevity of the construction. Rough corners attract dirt, which attracts moisture and mould. If nothing else, the boat will start to smell musty - at worst, unsealed edges and gaps where 'no-one will see' can start rot. I'm the one who is going to sit in the cockpit or the saloon and what I'll see will be the boat I built. I would like to look on her with pleasure. The most avid sailor in the world spends more time at anchor than sailing; more time below than on deck. I want my surroundings to be beautiful, at least to my eyes, and to give me constant pleasure.
Other people are building boats simply because they want to build a boat. They want to create something and they want the satisfaction of seeing a project through from start to finish and to say: I did this.
Maybe sailing performance is very important to them and they feel that by building carefully, fully concentrating on this aspect, they can achieve a better 'sailing machine' than they can buy for the same amount of money.
Yet other people are re/building boats because they couldn't find what they wanted in the market place. In this case, the building is often much more the means to the end rather than a journey in itself.
If you are part of this latter group, Scott, then you can live with other people's ideas that weren't actually what you envisaged; it's not that important to you to say "I did this"; your focus is to get sailing. But it's important to get it clear in your head just what you are doing this for, and where your ultimate satisfaction will lie.
Other people's impatience shouldn't make you feel diminished. Taking longer than you'd planned is part of life - a big project such as this, when you've never done something similar: it would be astonishing if your got your estimates correct.
David was wondering if he'd made the right decisions 40 years ago. One of my few pieces of wisdom is to realise that you hardly ever know if you made the right decision, there's no way of telling if another choice could have been better; but you do know when you've made the wrong one.