I’m not very good at waiting. For anything. Never have been. It brings out some sort of OCD tendency I know I directly inherited from my mother that causes me to do things like click refresh on my email repeatedly and check my bank balance every half hour on the hour. I also have a tendency to want to talk about the same topics over and over even beyond their threshold of interesting for anyone.

I have so many things that are out there, somewhere. Stories I’m waiting for responses to, things I am waiting to bounce into my lap, opportunities I know will soon present themselves but have not yet shown their faces.

Oh, I have a lot to do in the meantime—I am pretty much doing something from the time I wake up until the time I eventually try and lie down to sleep (which usually involves popping up a few times to check on things like my email and my bank balance before the Klonopin/Ambien cocktail kicks in (I TOLD you it’d be a difficult six months, right?).  But I have a very big issue with the whole “being in the here and now” moment. My mind has been six months in the future. In six months, things will look very different than they do right now. That’s what’s keeping me so busy from wake to pass-out. All this tapping refresh and obsessing is like some kind of demented way to mark this time passing.

But what all this has me thinking about is a quote from Chuck Palahniuk’s Invisible Monsters, which is weirdly keeping me fine with the tapping and the refreshing and the circling around things and the waiting:
“The best way is not to fight it, just go. Don’t be trying all the time to fix things. What you run from only stays with you longer. When you fight something, you only make it stronger.”
Crap, that man has taught me a lot, both in person and in his books.

I am not fighting this. I am Caren’s perverse urge to roll with not being able to roll with things.