just waiting

I’m pretty sure I’ve told you before, but just to emphasize this point, let me tell you again, I HATE WAITING.

My father pointed out to me today that I am not happy unless I am doing, and to me, waiting is NOT doing ANYTHING.

Waiting is simply wasting time, space, and energy.

Waiting for others is the worst, because there is NOTHING you can do in the mean time because you don’t know WHAT to do because you don’t know HOW long you’ll be waiting, and eventually I forget WHY I’m even waiting. Then I get all upset because I feel as though I’ve wasted all this time, just waiting.

Sure, I don’t mind waiting for dinner to cook, that’s always nice, because you get to smell great things simmering, hopefully you have good company, you can even read a book, because you have an END date, a time to eat, enjoy, and be DONE waiting.

I can swindle myself, like waiting for the seasons to change, sure they will change for you (unless you die, but even then they’ll keep changing) so one can rely on that. It’s the WAITING that gets under my skin. Luckily there are remedies, like making a smoothie with last year’s strawberries, hidden in the freezer (gotta love frigidares!), deceiving myself that spring is really on it’s way.

But this, this is just ridiculous.

Waiting, what is it ABOUT waiting that I dislike so much? Well let me see, it possesses a passive aggressive nature. It looms over my head, behind my right shoulder. I find things to distract me, I things to “DO” in the mean time, but it’s still there, like the wind. Shifting and changing, but always clinging to me, there, there, there, always there, it’s waiting.

For me, waiting is nothing but stagnation, fermenting and festering. It whittles away at it my bones, and it has no human qualities. No compassion.

How can I be content with doing nothing? Content stilling my mind and quieting my restlessness. JUST WAITING.

I crave adventure, transformation and dynamicity.