lady in waiting

I hate abhore waiting. I am probably one of the most impatient people on the planet. Why you say? Because I am a) not in control of the situation b) I have no bloody idea what the consensus is going to be – will it be wait I have been so eagerly anxiously praying and hoping, and dying for? Or will it be just another bead on the strands of let downs and broken hopes in my life?

I have this love-hate-relationship with emotions lately. They have been everywhere, worse than a pregnant mamma looking for where that last morsel of chocolate was… And it shows, not just in my chalk-board slate open book of a face & actions, but my room. Wow. its a disaster, the cleanliness of it seems to parallel my mood. Some days its so immaculately clean you could perform surgery in it and have the least bit of concern of sepsis. Other days, it doesn’t just look like a crash, or an explosion – no, it looks like it was rumbled from its neatly organized place by an earthquake, then lifted and tossed several miles from its origination via a wind tunnel, then it was spread everywhere by the post tsunami wake.

The anxiety is killing me. Eating me from inside. It’s been over a week. And really all I want to know is if I need to keep sitting on these eggs waiting for them to hatch. Or if the second I turn my back, they’ll be gone. Thrown into the stream by my master because they really were just fake inpregnantion of my body’s nature, nay desire?

So I sit here, fidgety, anxious, waiting.

And no, I will not do your laundry.