Just Waiting Around

The world acts like it just doesn’t care. The day is busy going about its own business. You sit there waiting. You are good at waiting. Sometimes it seems as though your whole life has been spent waiting around for something to happen. Of course, this doesn’t mean that you have not been out there trying to track down a life, capture it and drag it back home in triumph for everyone to see and admire. But, even that, though, seemed to boil down – in the end – to just quite a lot of sitting around… just waiting.

You went out too, found yourself the woman… well, if not exactly of your dreams, of some of your more… interesting imaginings. It seemed you spent a lot of time waiting around for her too: waiting for her to get ready, waiting for her to make up her mind, waiting for her to respond, waiting for her to get undressed and… eventually, waiting around for her to finally get the message and piss off, out of your life. Then there was a long time of waiting for the next one to come along.

Then there was the job, but the less said about that the better. Like most jobs it involved a lot of waiting, especially waiting for colleagues, customers, clients, associates and everyone else in that long frustrating chain to get up off their lazy arses and get on with it, so you could sod off home.

Nowadays though, you just hope there is no afterlife, and this life is not just a period of waiting before that begins, which consists – as far as you can see – of just waiting around – in paradise or eternal torment – for the rest of eternity.