Hurry Up and Wait

or, "Why You Should Never Tell Me Something Is Going To Happen Until It's Happening."

I am not a patient person. I have probably mentioned this here before, but I am alllll about the instant gratification. Hell to the yeah. In fact, the thing I hate most about alcohol is the fact one has to consume so damn much of it in order to feel the effect. (Yes, I'm that bad.)

And right now, I've got so many pots on the back burner, I'm afraid my stove is going to tip the hell over.

We can't pack until we move. We can't move until we close. We can't close until we have the cash. We can't have the cash until the end of this month. And since I lack the divine power to snap my fingers and make it August 31, I must wait.

We can't get a pet until we move. And so I wait.

The custody matter won't be resolved until next Wednesday. And so I wait, as I have been waiting since fucking April. Longer than that, even.

We can't have a baby until I get pregnant, and I can't get pregnant until my body decides to shit and get off the pot--so to speak. And so I wait.

Tom Petty once said "the waiting is the hardest part." And who am I to argue with Tom Petty?