The hardest part about life is waiting to find out who you’re going to become.
It’s not the day to day work, the stresses of relationships or responsibilities. It’s the waiting.
Nobody likes waiting. Waiting in line. Waiting for the oven to preheat. Waiting for your ride or a person to show-up. Waiting always feels like time wasted.
Which is weird, because that’s what we spend our whole life doing: we wait. We just wait. We just wait to find out who we’re going to become.
Sure, we do stuff along the way, a lot of stuff actually, in the hope it carries us to that desired destination. Sometimes, even aggressively so. You work on the assumption that it will pay off, but you don’t know. It’s a guess, a hope.
Sometimes, I picture life like a TV show. You watch something happen, it cuts to the outside of a building (maybe the “Family Matters” house) and the words “three months later” or “three years later” appear, and you find out what happens right away. It happens so quick. There’s an immediate payoff and you learn the consequence (unless, of course, you are watching “Lost”, in which case you don’t find out anything. Damn, I love that show, though).
What does the next year hold in store? The next five years? Ten years?
I guess that’s the “fun part”. I didn’t mean to use quotation marks there, it is fun. Bastardly fun.
Just, sometimes, I wonder…