I’m an impatient person. If I want something, I want it now. I need immediate gratification for my effort, so while I enjoy window shopping on-line, I rarely purchase that way because it’s hardly worth the wait, even if it’s just a couple of days. Don’t even ask me how insane I was when the etsy purchase I made went from taking two weeks to six weeks to complete and finally arrive at my front steps.
I’m intolerant of other drivers when I’m in a hurry. I have my own matrix of who I will pull up behind at a stop light. Old land yacht or mini-van? I’ll take the land yacht since it’s usually a lead-footed kid driving. Buick or Toyota? Toyota, since I’m almost positive I’ve never seen anyone under the age of 99 driving a Buick. A pristine sports car or aforementioned Buick? Almost a toss up, but I gamble on the Buick because the sports car is probably driven by some middle-aged, balding dude who has never pushed his preshusssss baby past 40mph.
I guess that’s why country living actually suits me. Yes, things are “sleepier” and slower than urban living, but the only lines I have ever found myself standing in are the ones for the community pancake feeds. Need my license renewed? Walk in the door and up to the window and *poof*, new driver’s license. My husband and I went into vote, walked out and returned to work within 15 minutes. I’m pretty lucky, I guess.
Well, you knew there had to be an “except”, didn’t you?
Last Friday I was scheduled for a hair cut/color with my friend/hairdresser at 4:30. I arrived for my appointment at 4:40. Why? Because she has never, EVER, been on time and she’s been my hairdresser since 1994. What time did I leave? At 5:10…because she still was with the appointment before me.
In the past, I have waited over 30 minutes for her, but you know what? I have a new baby at home. I have a son who likes me to help him with homework. I have a husband (who I haven’t spent any quality time with since ZGirl arrived and school started). At the rate my friend was going, I would be lucky if I was home by 8:00. And that’s why I walked out, gray hairs, six months of roots, and all. I’m so done with that. I just told her I would call and reschedule, that I had to be home at a certain time.
I haven’t rescheduled. I won’t, either. Instead I have done something that scares the hell out of me. I have scheduled a cut/color at a salon I haven’t been to with a person I’ve never met. All within a couple days of getting our family pictures done.
Pray for me.