I have wanted to share this little paragraph for a while. It is taken from The Discreet Pleasures of Rejection by Martin Page. The paragraph describes a scene in which the protagonist watches his friend waiting for him at a cafe.
I am a very punctual person who just happens to have many friends who aren’t. I spend a lot of time waiting. I hate waiting because I’m not an elegant waiter. I never know what to do, I never know where to look, and I never know where to put my hands. I end up looking like an antsy five year old who really needs to pee. So yes, Martin Page, I completely agree–waiting is an ancestral art that was complex and refined–and if there’s one thing I want to achieve in life, it’s to be a graceful waiter.
Hiraeth 
I hate waiting too! I bite my nails…!
Waiting helped me a lot with my anger issues and provided me with an edge to acquire patience and a bit of discipline. It takes a lot of getting used to. Definitely an ancestral art.
hello? im waiting for the next post!