I hate to wait.
I'm sure I'm not alone in this. We are a culture of right now--instant coffee, fast food, friendships with one click via social networks, Whatever it is we want, we want it NOW!
But sometimes I wonder if slower isn't better.
I'm starting to like it. If the grocery store clerk wants to visit while she checks out my purchases, who does it hurt? The person behind me in line is likely to join in on the conversation and we all pass a pleasant time.
Measuring the passage of time is a pretty artificial construct, after all. I haven't worn a wristwatch since I started carrying a cellphone years ago. (Of course, that may be because something in my body chemistry drains the batteries of a watch in about a month unless I put a moleskin patch between me and the metal, but that oddity is another blog post entirely!) Even though the town around me is on a different schedule, I still have issues with punctuality. Not mine, you understand. Being a railroader's daughter, I'm rather OCD about being where I'm supposed to be when I'm supposed to be there. But having to wait for others who are not so inclined is a trial to my hyper-punctual soul.
The Coldwater Warm Hearts Club is under consideration by a NY publisher and, while the editor is very excited about the project, the acquisition board still has the final say.
So, I'm drumming my fingers on my laptop wondering what will come...If it's something wonderful, trust me, you'll be the first to know.