I don’t know if I mentioned this before (or maybe I have, six or seven times) but patience is a struggle for me. If I am going to have it, I want it, I want it now, I want it the way I want it and if I can’t have it that way then I don’t want it. That’s not a very mature outlook on life, for the most part.
While my inability to take Later for an answer has brought me some great things, it smacks of a Veruca Salt a la Willy Wonka attitude and mentality that I don’t associate with myself. I have never (hardly ever) thrown a tantrum to get my way. If the true answer really is Later, then I have to accept that. I’ve not been able to use my feminine wiles to move things forward in a more rapid fashion, but if it’s something I want, guaran-damn-teed that I will work diligently to get it as soon as humanly possible.
Take my weight loss surgery for example. The time span from deciding to go with the surgery (knowing that I would be paying for it myself) to scheduling surgery was about a week. Seriously. One Thursday I was pushing the GO button and the next Thursday I had my surgery date. And by the following Monday I had been approved for the loan to pay for it. Years ago I decided to buy a car. In three days I had a new car.
I’m not one for waiting, especially when it doesn’t make sense to. You know you want to do it, so do it. Whatcha waitin’ for?
Today I am waiting. Because. Because I think it’s best for me to sit back and let this process play out right now. I can’t continue to be the one working and pushing and pulling while he sits back and ‘lets it happen to him’. Besides, if there is no effort from the other side, and I’m watching actions, he’s telling me everything I need to hear: he’s looking for something easy and for someone to do all the work, to prep the entire situation and for him to effortlessly step into it.
Honey, there is nothing effortless about being with me.