PSA – Daylight Savings starts tomorrow. (11/4)

So, as stated last blog, I went out with my sister.
We hit the gym.   I got two solid hours of the elliptical and an hour of the stair step in.   I finished watching Bates Motel on Netflix and started in on Sabrina.    I think I’m two episodes in.

We went to Mark Pi’s (Chinese).   I had the garlic.  She had the veggie stirfry with additional chicken… which I really don’t understand since the lunch is about $7 and it’s $3 for extra chicken.   I’d just rather buy a chicken breast, grill it myself, and make a nice sandwich… but she doesn’t see it that way.  It’s her money.  I’m not paying.   I had white rice.   She had fried.  I had a diet.  She had sweet tea.

We went to Starbucks on 46 so she could re-establish her field.  You wouldn’t understand that reference unless you’re familiar with Ingress.  That’s okay.  Apparently, I’m searching for worms and pigeons on the game I play.  Didn’t find any with the limited time I was on today, but that’s okay.

She had some sort of peppermint hot chocolate that smelled like chapstick.  I had skinny hot chocolate – extra hot with a couple pumps of vanilla just to be different.

We went home.   She retreated into her room.  Mom and Bill have already retired for the night.    His shoulder is acting up I guess… and now I am waiting.. again.

Student assignments are due today.   None of them are courteous enough to turn them in early for me.  I can’t just sit and refresh the screen.  I did that in a previous life and simply drove me mad.   I don’t feel like playing any games.   I’m not going to grind out the 350 some points for GoW and it’s too late to get into any raids.    I could watch a movie, but don’t feel like it.   I only watch Netflix at the gym, which closes in fifteen minutes.

I suppose I could take a sleeping pill and turn in early… way early… but I’d miss any assignments that come in.    I hate to have them pile up.   There’s nothing more depressing than spending an evening eyeball deep in poorly written papers.

It’s Saturday night.  I suppose I could dress up and head out to a bar.  It’s been a long time since I had my old standby (peppermint schnapps), but I know I’d worry mom.   Drinking and driving…   I don’t feel like I have the money to spend on that sort of extravagance and, if I actually got tipsy enough to flirt, I would feel like I’m betraying Jason.

So, here I sit like a twit with my first world problems.

Waiting.  I hate waiting.

You know, I feel like I’ve my entire life.

I wait for people to take action.  I wait for doctors.  I wait for my brother and sister to collect me when it’s time to go.   I’ve started to measure out and mentally count the hours between eating.  (Thanks ed!)  I’m waiting to go to sleep.   I’m waiting for the students.   I’m waiting for work.   I’m waiting for Jason.

At one point, when I was young, I considered myself a fairly patient person.   As I’ve become older, it’s quite the opposite.  Shouldn’t it be the other way around?  Young people are impatient while older ones are?

I hate waiting.   I’m stuck and I feel like I can’t become unstuck because of what’s around me.  It’s impolite.  I might be needed.  I might not be needed.

I could knit, read, play a game, go out… but I don’t want to.   Not only am I waiting on other people, I’m waiting on myself.

This sucks.