Waiting and other games

This morning, after I lumbered to the loo, my first thought was, I am tired of waiting!!

And right away, the inner censor/harsh editor chimed in. "You have no idea what waiting is." Of course the first story he brought to mind that I can remember now (I've been twittering, FaceBooking, and G-mailing) is the story of Sarah and Abraham, and their wait for Isaac. Oh. Well. If you're going to compare me and my waitings to the story of Genesis, well, that's not fair.

But seriously, my waits are not serious. I'm a pretty happy single woman who gets to write for fun and mostly enjoys her job. There are people who are unhappily single (or worse, unhappily married), have no time to write even for fun, and don't have jobs. And then I hear my pastor's wife, "Comparison is the thief of all joy."

And this Saturday, at a party that tried the soul, I had a kitchen conversation with Garrett, who allowed that it was frustrating to be at a job where your soul wasn't in it. Bless you. And a few weeks ago, a friend emailed me that she couldn't imagine wanting to be in a relationship and not being in one. Bless you. I'm sure there's someone out there that would have the conversation with me that looks like, "It's okay to be where you are, play writing." Drat, there go the waterworks.

We should have taken a picture at the party. One couple, with their foster baby, would be at one end. Next would be the next momma, who looks (respectfully) like she swallowed a prize winning watermelon, and last would be the baby bumps, in order of size and due date. Maybe I would be at the other end of the spectrum, saying "Happy that I have no baby of any size, color, or persuasion on the way!"

Hmmm. A baby is nine months, if you're a human. Maybe that's what's driving me nuts, I have no timetable. There's no time table saying, in three months, you'll make a catch that's a matchless match. In two, you'll hold a job you'll crow about to all who will listen, and in a year and a half, you'll have enough control and wiggle in your life to work on writing.

Cuileann, dear heart, has as a quote on her blog and as a quote on Twitter, "It is not true that life is one damn thing after another. It is one damn thing over and over." To which I replied, I think it's three damn things over and over. My three things (not my three sons): career, soul mate, passion.

***pause while I go to find Come a stranger, where Mina's mom says that history is her passion, nursing is her job, and her husband is her (something less romantic than passion but still very nice.) Drat. Can't find it. It's a really good quote. And I realize that I need a new copy, this one is really yellowed. I wonder if you can still get Come a stranger in hardcover. I'll have to report back. Now is NOT the time to go internet window shopping.

I have cast aside my walk and some piecework for work to sit here and write. I got my cholesterol back--207! WOOT! I'll make an appointment to go over it after Christmas, since I'm interested in knowing my LDLs and all that. Is it crazy that I'm scared that I jinxed it by walking every day the week before and eating right? (Now that I'm in high party season where I'm not eating right and I haven't been walking?)

I have to say, I'm pretty excited when I think about the possibility of the latest interview I had. And I'm thrilled to pieces when I think of the films I get to see as a part of the film discussion group I've joined. In May, we'll watch "Cool Hand Luke" a movie I've been meaning to see for ages but didn't think I could watch by myself. And the fact that I don't have to be anywhere for at least an hour, I can sit here and dither with this post or go off and comment on friend's posts, well, maybe life ain't so bad. And my harsh critic says, you just had a good cry and now have Zoloft streaming through your system, of course life ain't so bad.

Thanks. Thanks for that.

Yesterday on the way to work I was thinking about Anne. You know, Anne! (It baffles me to think that someone might not know who Anne is, but who I mean is Anne Shirley, Miss Anne with an E, if you please.) One of my friends had "Anne's theme" as her processional at her wedding. Even though I'm pretty stuck on "Fairest Lord Jesus," I still think she had a pretty great idea, and am still tempted to steal (borrow) it from her. But anyways, talk about star-crossed lovers. I mean, Gil was engaged to someone else for crying out loud! And then he got sick, and broke off the engagement, and (swell the music) he and Anne lived in happiness forever more.

Okay, that was an interesting sidetrip. There is a wealth of Anne videos with contemporary songs, here's one I like, Miss Independent. Look at the time, I gotta go find out if lunch starts at 11, cuz if it does, I gotta go!

I have a little bit of time, I have to get to where lunch is at 11:30. But it still means I gotta go. Thanks for playing with me a little bit. It is crazy that there are people who read this that I've never met online or off, who occasionally de-lurk when I write a particularly touching or well written post. Thanks. Really. I'd write anyways, but it's nice to know you're out there, dear reader.

Oh drat, just realized I was going to do some laundry this morning. Oh well...