I feel I spend about 85-95% of my time just waiting.
Waiting for big stuff and little stuff to happen: waiting for long-term and short-term stuff to hit my radar.
I feel like I’m always waiting on the dog to complete a bowel movement.
I wait on the kettle to boil.
I find myself waiting for one of my children to call and tell me they’re ready to be picked up.
I end up waiting for innumerable sporting events to begin. And then I wait on those blessed final minutes when they end.
I wait for more messes to be made so that I inevitably have to clean them up.
I wait for things to break, or get trashed or simply not turn up.
I wait around for friends to invite me over so that I have an excuse to drink.
I’m waiting for those last ten pounds to drop.
More times than I care to count I have to wait for other people to make decisions so that I can make my own.
I wait around for inspiration to strike so that I can do something other than waiting.
Frequently I can’t wait to read my favorite blogs. Then I have to wait for newer posts. But ultimately I have to wait for a spate of courage to invade my soul in order to leave a comment.
I usually can’t wait until after dinner so that I no longer have to wait to go to bed.
I’m waiting for that moment of clarity and understanding when the purpose for my existence reveals itself.
I’m waiting to discover what is “normal”.
I’m waiting for final confirmation – that I’m really full of shit.
I’m waiting for reassurances that my kids will grow up to be good people – that I didn’t mess them up.
I’m unconsciously waiting for the other shoe to drop – and find out that I’m not that resilient after all.
I’m waiting for people to stop being so mean. Or ultra-sensitive. Or insecure. Or unthinking.
Or maybe I’m waiting for the uncomfortable truth to be revealed that I’m all of those things – and then some.
And as existential as this sounds, maybe in spite of all the things we accomplish and manage to get done, we are all just waiting to disappear. Get turned back into dirt.
6 comments:
Well Molly, I've read a lot of really good posts today. Starting with Ron at RWorld, moving to Hedy, on to Thomas at Living Next Door to Alice (see my sidebar if you aren't familiar).
Then there was you. Dessert.
You have my award, no little icons, just my award, for your best post, and one of the best I've read in awhile.
Been a pretty good day. Thanks for your help in achieving the result.
Dave -
I'm incredibly touched ~ and honored.
Truth be told, however, I wrote this little "gem" about a month (maybe month and a half) ago and at the time it was in a constant round of edits and re-edits to get it right. I'm a perfectionist to a fault, I don't wield words easily, and I feel extremely frustrated when my stuff comes off sounding trite/hackney/clichéd/wrong.
And today was a real crappy day for me and this post seemed rather fitting.
So, even more, your praise means a lot to me ~ thanks :)
In that case, the month or so showed. The piece was well thought, polished and cohesive.
That said, I throw stuff out. Sometimes it works, and then sometimes....
I might might not like to not hear from you on your current schedule; but, if you need the time to put out stuff like this, then I'll wait.
This is a very well done post.
Personal posts are always hardest to write, at least for me. I generally just link to a news story and say something snarky.
This post reads like poetry.
Wow. Don't ask me why. But, my comment is "I don't want to wait. I want to live." I realize how trite and silly that sounds. But, it is my response.
thomaslb -
So glad you stopped on by - and I really appreciate your poetic observation. In my heart I really think I am poet; I think my brain prefers to work with language in short alliterative bursts!
lil sis -
In order for me to ever be able live and live life fully, I would need to be reincarnated as not-such-damaged goods. Nuff said.
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