In the Waiting Room

16 Sep

Surprisingly I feel confident. Deep inside I believe I will get over this like I have some way or another gotten over any distressing situation I’ve experienced in the past. This too shall pass. In the mean time, I’m sitting here waiting. Trying to distract myself with whatever I can get my hands on. It’s like sitting at the doctor’s office knowing that he’s on the other side of that door doing who knows what, and you’re running out of patience because you’re certain once you go in you’ll be taken care of.

My friends and family are being very supportive around this “waiting” period. They’re like the magazines on the waiting room coffee table. They entertain me, give me suggestions like what new dish to make, what cool spot to hit on friday night, how to make home-made exfoliator for a spa-at-home treatment. Anything to get my mind occupied while I wait, but honestly, I’m getting impatient. I feel like I’ve read all the articles before. As if I’ve gone through all the magazines and still I’m here waiting for my turn to go in. I don’t want to start over again to kill time, I want to close my eyes and feel time pass me by in fastforward. I want to open my eyes and it be my turn. Be ready to go in and see what’s behind that door and go on, and move on to the next one.


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