Thoughts on waiting.

Waiting when there’s absolutely nothing I can do to help or make the wait shorter.  Tapping my foot.  Pacing.  Stretching out my legs, crossing my arms over my chest and closing my eyes.  A jerk back to reality.  Glancing at my watch.  Sitting up straight to clear my head.  Repeat.

Silence is so uncomfortable.  I wish I had a book or cards or a magazine.  My mind is so seldom left alone to itself without stimulation of one kind or other.  Some background music would be nice now.  Why can’t I just sit here and be content?  How often do I wish for the quiet?  And now, here it is and I can’t stand it!

Wondering if something’s wrong.  Reassuring myself with reasons, excuses I will later hear.  What will I say in response?  Something rude?  No, I’ll write a letter later, maybe. Feeling powerless and out of control.  What can I do?  Developing a plan.  Wondering when to execute it.

Still waiting.  Still tapping.  Still pacing.  Still still.  STILL!

A rustling outside.  I sit at attention.  The door opens.  “So sorry for the wait.”

“No problem,” are the words that tumble from my mouth.

H.H.