I hate waiting.
When I’m waiting somewhere in an office, or in a line, or in a classroom with nothing better to do, I find myself thinking about other things that annoy me.
Like, you know when you’re walking in an air-conditioned shopping mall in a third world country, with only tall glass separating your sterile consumerist biosphere from the rotten hell that surrounds you? The knowledge that when you step outside those doors, the stench of poor people will cling to your chest, so why not walk around some more? Being born into this world where you’ve been lucky enough to be among the people wasting time inside, as opposed to one of the desperate souls rooting through the garbage looking for cans outside, is the ultimate reason you’re able to justify the guilt of being in such a position – it really wasn’t your doing anyway.
Or, you know when you see old houses that haven’t been kept up and some of the roofing tiles are missing or out of place?
Or how seeing some young asshole reminds you of yourself (maybe not so) long ago?
Yeah, shit like that annoys me.
That’s why I hate waiting.