Waiting

The young guy, in his bright blue collared shirt looks at me apologetically and says "Actually, your phone isn't ready to be picked up. Sorry you had to wait so long in line."

"It's ok."

It's not like I'm ever not waiting on something.

Waiting in traffic. Waiting for traffic to break. For payday. For the coffee to brew. For a program to download. For my souffle to rise. For my dog to pee. For my 3 year old niece to eat her breakfast. For commercials to be over. For rambly voicemails to end. For the gas tank to fill up. For the bartender to make my drink. For the phone to stop ringing. For the end of twenty minutes on the elliptical. For a blue line to appear. For bacon to finish frying. For my refund to come in. For my bangs to grow out. For Dark Knight Rising. For my bruises to heal. For a phone call. For a text message. For the McRib. For the laundry to finish. For forgiveness. For apathy. For snow fall. For my lunch break. For zits to heal. For vacation. For my computer to boot up. For blu-rays to load. For the cat to stop walking across my lap. For the series finale of The Killing. For math to make sense. For the dishes to soak. For cures. For medicine to kick in. For my credit card to be paid off. For packages to arrive. For courage. For ramen to boil. For satisfaction. For the end of another season. For bedtime.

We are waiting. This is what we do.

I walk back to my car, start the engine, and wait for the car to warm up.