"Paciencia piojo, que la noche es larga."
I think one of my biggest flaws is how impatient I am. I am constantly trying to find the Next Big Thing (NBT) in my life, worried that I am missing out.
I don't know what to do anymore, though. I'm feeling frustrated that my life seems to be at a standstill, despite the fact that I'm happy with the way things are going. I mean there's all this internal pressure for me to conform to certain societal standards and it's stressing me out to the point that I'm itching for the remote, trying to find a way to fast-forward to the NBT.
...
And then... then this awful, creeping sensation sneaks up on me: What if there is no Next Big Thing? What if I'm meant to have this same mediocre life? And that's when the impatience sets in again and it's a never-ending circle of malaise, this insufferable restlessness.
I don't even know what I'm waiting for, exactly. Life is good right now (barring the meltdown I had a few weeks ago) and I feel fulfilled in most areas of my life; my friend groups are happy and full; I'm constantly writing; I'm filling my time doing productive things; I'm happy at work; and I feel confident that I'll be able to make that big purchase within the next two years. So why am I itching for the Universal Control of Life? Why do I want to skip all of this in-between stuff? What exactly am I anxiously waiting for?
And I know the answer.
(They say good things come to those who wait...)
And I know what I'm waiting for.
(But I've never been a patient woman.)
And I know why I'm impatient for it.
(I mean, what if It never comes?)
But as the old saying goes, "Paciencia piojo, que la noche es larga."
I don't know what to do anymore, though. I'm feeling frustrated that my life seems to be at a standstill, despite the fact that I'm happy with the way things are going. I mean there's all this internal pressure for me to conform to certain societal standards and it's stressing me out to the point that I'm itching for the remote, trying to find a way to fast-forward to the NBT.
...
And then... then this awful, creeping sensation sneaks up on me: What if there is no Next Big Thing? What if I'm meant to have this same mediocre life? And that's when the impatience sets in again and it's a never-ending circle of malaise, this insufferable restlessness.
I don't even know what I'm waiting for, exactly. Life is good right now (barring the meltdown I had a few weeks ago) and I feel fulfilled in most areas of my life; my friend groups are happy and full; I'm constantly writing; I'm filling my time doing productive things; I'm happy at work; and I feel confident that I'll be able to make that big purchase within the next two years. So why am I itching for the Universal Control of Life? Why do I want to skip all of this in-between stuff? What exactly am I anxiously waiting for?
And I know the answer.
(They say good things come to those who wait...)
And I know what I'm waiting for.
(But I've never been a patient woman.)
And I know why I'm impatient for it.
(I mean, what if It never comes?)
But as the old saying goes, "Paciencia piojo, que la noche es larga."
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