Posted by: colloquiallyspeaking | August 20, 2010

The Waiting Game

I hate waiting.
Waiting for the bus, waiting for the rain to stop, waiting for the rain to start, waiting for people to arrive, waiting for people to leave, waiting for bedtime, waiting for morning, waiting to grow up…
I should be taking notes from my daughter. She’s almost three. She’ll be three after her birthday, she says. Not yet, now she’s two. She’s okay with that. In fact, it bothers her to be told that she’s almost three. “No, AFTER my birthday I gonna be three!”
How right she is.
I have a tendency to talk about things as though they are already here. I seem to think that talking about what I’m waiting for makes it come sooner. I should really learn from my little teacher and make the most of the moments I’m in. I should quit waiting around for the next thing.
The problem is that I think I started this off wrong.
I think I might love waiting.
I think I might love it more than experiencing what it is I’m waiting for.
When I wait for something, I have it all figured out. I know exactly how the conversation is going to go, I know the intricacies of all sides of the situation and the outcome is crystal clear. The chagim always come and go without a hitch and birthdays are never disappointing. I always say the right things and no one ever puts me down. There are no surprises, and life is absolutely beautiful.
My little girl has it right, am I big enough to see that?

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