The wait just about kills you. It doesn’t really matter what you’re waiting for. Unless you’re some kind of robot then waiting = intense anxiety and mental anguish.
“Patience, n. A minor form of despair, disguised as a virtue.” ~ Ambrose Bierce
Nine months for a baby seems like nine years when you feel like a ginormous whale that has to pee all the time. Waiting to hear back about that job, those test results, the acceptance letter, the airplane to land, the holiday to begin – all torturous. Waiting for a call from that man you had a date with last Saturday – the one you think might really be the one – that’s a special kind of anguish in terms of waiting. Remembering how that particular wait feels is what keeps me tolerant of any of my marital issues and ensures our marriage counsellor will have me and my hubby as lifetime clients.
And though I’d never claim to be patient, I’d like to think at forty-three years old I would’ve mastered it somewhat. But I haven’t. At least not when it comes to waiting for responses from agents holding onto bits of my novel, Life as a Teenage Mutant. I am getting grey hair waiting. I am literally going bonkers – and I can say literally and mean literally in this case.
“Patience is the companion of wisdom.” ~St. Augustine
“All good things come to he who waits” ~ Proverb
Bah. Patience is over-rated.
“Yes, very impatient. Get out of my way.” ~ George Steinbrenner