VanPelt.
Once there was a way to get back home…
Nobody likes to wait. It’s a universal truth. It doesn’t matter who or what you’re waiting on or waiting for…waiting for a train, waiting for your lover to arrive, waiting for a file to download, waiting for the lottery to be drawn, waiting for the film to be developed, waiting on the test results…nobody likes it. Waiting is like wearing a damp, ill-fitted, itchy suit.
Procrastination, though, is a different song. Killing time, dawdling, idling away the hours, dilly-dallying…unlike waiting, these are occupations of our own choosing. Waiting is forced on us; trifling away our time is an oft-delicious option. We can read, we can daydream, we can casually contemplate the complexities of life and everything in it. We can look out the window. We can write bad poetry. We can consider the tensile strength of a hair plucked from our head. Each activity is equally intriguing.
Waiting or idling, the act is the same. The difference is the attitude.
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