As I typed that headline, I heard Axl Rose wailing within my head. Oh, the agony.
I don’t have much in this world, but something I am desperately trying to acquire is a wee bit more patience. OK, a wee bit minus the more part … I don’t have an iota of patience when it comes to waiting for anything. And that inner bitch of mine? Oh, the rage she exhibits when she has to wait for anything. She does know, though, that waiting for stupid people to trip over the cluestick and get bonked in the head by it, however, is the longest wait of all. …
Last week was a terrible week for commuting (though I did have a splendid commute both coming and going today, thankyouverymuch … minus accidentally ending up on Constitution Avenue, but even that worked out quite peachily because anything beats sitting on 395 North so long that you have a birthday before you make it to work, but I digress).
*takes a breath*
Anywho, after a spectacularly shitty eternity living in traffic last week, I spent practically the whole of Saturday morning waiting in line at the post office. Oh. My. God. The agony, the torture, the cruelty of it all! To spend the whole week wearing out the poor brakes on your vehicle, then to spend hours waiting to mail out some packages via media mail because you’re selling your soul (or, at least, your books) to make ends meet.
In any event, I was 437th in line behind some loony woman. As soon as I got there, four people lined up behind me. Loony Tunes tells me she needs to duck out of line for a moment and asks me to hold her place. I stared at her in stony silence, perturbed but not quite enough to just outright slug her. After she left, I heard myself say, “Well, what the fuck else do I have to do in the meantime?” Whoops.
So she comes back in line a few minutes later. I’d assumed she’d had to grab a form or an envelope, but nada. So we inch up a few times, and she tells me to hold her place again. I said, “Seriously?” but she had gone *poof* before I had the full word out of my mouth. Now, people are really starting to send me evil vibes. But my evil vibes are stronger because my Inner Bitch had had her vitamin that morning and nobody was going to out-bitch her that day.
Loony Tunes comes back and gets in line in front of me again. I had basically been flat-out ignoring her as she came and went because I was in no fucking mood for conversation and I certainly wasn’t in the mood for her shit. I mean, I didn’t want to be standing in line either, you know? I am claustrophobic and agoraphobic and, all-in-all, just ridiculously pissed off to be spending my life waiting.
And, wouldn’t ya know it, Loony has to get out of line again! At this point, her death is imminent. Would you dare ask anyone to hold your place in a line … and three times, to boot?
When she comes back into line, I launch into full assault mode. “Lady, go home and don’t come back till you get your fucking shit together!” At that same moment, she breathes that she has asthma and needed air.
Damn it.
Trumped me.
Fuck.
Anyway, she didn’t dare get out of line again. But she practically crawled up the ass of the person in line in front of her, so either she didn’t need air that badly or she didn’t want to be burned by the fire I was breathing in her direction. 😉
But, alas, apparently my patience is improving, because six months ago, my head would have spun 360 degrees from the pain. Apparently, I am growing, and there may be hope for me acquiring a shred of patience — or, at least, not plotting homicide — one of these days. 😀
On iTunes: The Killers, “Somebody Told Me”