Patience

For the record (and I’m sure it will come as no surprise), I loathe waiting. Patience has never been one of my virtues. You think it’s a coincidence you can’t spell PATIENCE without p-a-i-n?

I just don’t get it. The process of trying not to think about whatever it is you want in your ownership, presence, or list of accomplishments, *stat*. Stat, interestingly enough, is recognized by Word’s spellchecker. Even though to my knowledge its only definition is ‘now if not sooner’. Or an abbreviation of ‘status’. I dunno.

Regardless: I hate waiting. That doesn’t mean I can’t, I just don’t like doing it in the meantime. I’m currently in anticipation of news on something fairly important. So important that I’d rather not jinx it (or risk the same) by mentioning it specifically. This is me knocking on wood.

Call it a form of hedonism: I like instant gratification. Granted, my tastes don’t run that rich: I’m not crazy about sweets, I don’t eat to excess and I don’t go chasing about young women. However: the things I *do* want… I hone in on them sharper than a half-starved vulture seeking day-old carrion. You can practically see them circling my head, waiting for the shoulder-angel to die that dares suggest I think about something else for awhile.

Anyway: The necessary information will not be gleaned tonight. It will arrive… when it arrives. There is nothing I can do about it tonight; so this is the extent of my ranting, raving, and carrying on. In the meantime, there are books, games, and the DVD collection with which to assassinate time. No mere murder, the Time I currently prey upon lowers like secret service men on the precious answer I’m awaiting. *Nothing* will get through until it passes. Which, since there is no alternative, is fine.

Anyone care for a round of Parcheesi?