Saturday, February 19, 2011


You know the feeling when you anticipate something wonderful for so long you can't even stand it?  You want to pee your pants from excitement, do a crazy happy dance, stomp your feet in frustration, cry from all the's the equivalent of knowing you're getting the one present you HAVE to have on Christmas.  You know you're getting it and you want it NOW!  But you have to wait until the 25th. 

You hate everyone who has a smile on their face. You hate them with a passion.  You can't stand to see them in their happiness. You want nothing more than to wipe that blissful smile off their dirty rotten faces. You're miserable in your waiting and you want everyone to feel your pain. Time doesn't move any faster than it always does. It doesn't matter how much you beg, plead, pray, and bargain to your mom, dad, or God. Time doesn't care about you. It has it's own agenda: to move at its own pace and no one else's. 

You think time has something against you. You think maybe you've done something to incur its wrath.  It's getting its revenge. You have to wait longer than anyone else. Every moment of anticipation is agonizing.  It's awful.

That's how I feel when my husband leaves. I can't wait until he gets back. He left this morning at 9:30 and I won't see him for several weeks. 

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