I remember this feeling as early as childhood. The nagging hurry up and wait that encompasses most big events in life. I specifically remember my mom and dad telling me that we had an hour until we could leave to see the Arbaugh's over a weekend. Sitting in front of the TV in the living room, I was certain they had misspoke when what they said was an hour felt, most assuredly like a decade. I was all ready to go! Did my parents not understand? I had my bags packed and my appetite for the baggie of sugar cereal I was not allowed at home was roaring! As the seconds ticked by slowly, the anticipation of getting on the road swelled so frantically in my being that it was almost more than I could stand!
Entertaining, isn't it, that this feeling exists at every age. Sure, the muses that initiate this response change as the maturity thermometer reaches higher temperatures, but, the feeling remains the same. The big difference being that now, an hour only feels long when it's consumed with undesirable activities. Funny how that works out, or doesn't, as it were.
So today, I find myself waiting. I hurried up and now I am waiting. Patience is a virtue that I am continually faced with my need to obtain. Keep them coming, folks...positive thoughts and vibes of any nature are much appreciated!
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