Waiting

There are very few things in life that I hate more than waiting. I’ve never had much tolerance to just sit around and wait for something. Back in my concert going days, I never stood in line to get into a show. I would get there when everyone was already in, even if it meant missing the first act. I would bud in line or make friends with a door guy who could get me in via the back. But standing in line and just waiting, is not what I did.

Even now, I can’t stand the concept of waiting. It just blows my mind. There is always something better you could be doing instead. That’s why airports frustrate me so much. There’s so much time to kill when you’re there, and it seems like you’re just sitting around wishing something would happen.

It’s funny how my deep hatred for the act of waiting has anger flooding through me as I write this. And even so, as I write this, I’m waiting for a boy to show up. A boy, who is out doing things rather than just sitting around. And on the other end of that spectrum, I’m trying to think of things to do while I kill time waiting for him.

Numerous words come to mind to describe my actions. But none of them are of a positive nature.