The living room is quiet. The television is not on, which is a rarity at our house. I hear the hum of the air conditioning unit that is blowing in outside air, as I refuse to turn the compressor back on. This is October 20, and it is supposed to be cooler than it is, even in South Texas.
The clickety-clack of my keyboard keys as I type this message contends with the distant scream of a siren that floats in through the open windows. Is it a fire engine or an ambulance? Maybe it is just a law-enforcement officer chasing a would-be escape artist.
The lingering scent of nachos coming from the kitchen reminds me that I should probably have made something more substantial for supper. However, that small act took my husband and me on a nostalgic trip back to the early 80s, when a local bar/restaurant served killer nachos with a bit of tomato added between the bean and the cheese. They were different, and they were delicious. Making them tonight was a slow process, but well worth the effort.
A small spider crawls across my computer desk. As I look up and see his home hanging from the ceiling above me, I realize that I should be cleaning house and killing him and his relatives before they take over my world. However, I'd rather write.
I am waiting, waiting, waiting. I'm waiting for bedtime, for an e-mail, for a phone call. I'm waiting for that perfect agent or publisher to contact me. I'm waiting for that huge reader base I've always wanted. Mostly, I am waiting for cooler weather.
As I sit here, waiting for that first real cool front of autumn, (not really due until tomorrow night, I think,) I wonder. How many hours of our lives are spent waiting for something? We wait in line at the fast-food venue, we wait in line to buy a ticket to see a movie, and we wait in line to check out at the grocery store, or Wal-Mart. The doctor and dentist even have a "waiting room" because so many people have to wait to see him or her. We wait in line to get our hair cut, our nails done, and to take care of our banking business.
There's that siren again. Is it the same emergency, or is this a busy Saturday night in Beeville, Texas? I wonder who's waiting for that ambulance or that fire engine? Will it get there on time, or will it be too late?
How much time do we spend waiting? What fraction of our lives? I think we wait more than we sleep. What do you think?
