Waiting.
Waiting for an email response from a local non-profit that I’m trying to donate some in-package printer cartridges to. This is the third organization contacted; the first took a full week to respond.
Also, I’m waiting for a message or call from a key person before we can proceed with setting up an event. (Vague on purpose.)
And
I’m waiting for a local jeweler to reply to an email about setting up an
appraisal and possible sale of a number of Kris’s old items. (This was the
earliest I could face doing it, a year and ten or so months after his exit, so
before this I was waiting on myself.)
Also
waiting for a response from my medical provider to a question about how much it
will cost if I start using a recommended prescription medication. Waiting since
last Thursday.
And, more immediately, I’m waiting for students to submit an assignment due today so that I can grade them. So far five people have turned it in though there are twenty-five in the class.
Other waits are happening though they are less tied to specific moments. I’m waiting for social opportunities to resume at full tilt. I’m waiting for news, later this summer, about whether I’ll be teaching in person with a mask on in the fall. Waiting to see what the United Methodist Church will become as it whirls apart over LGBTQ inclusion. And I’m waiting to meet a special someone (though plans to make that happen keep shifting and evaporating like a movie project in Development Hell).
At least I’m not waiting on a list of songs about time and waiting. They keep popping into my head.
“Time
Is On My Side,” Irma Thomas, ripped off by the Rolling Stones.
“Tired
of Waiting for You,” the Kinks. And so perfectly languid.
“Wonderful
Tonight,” Eric Clapton, about waiting for his wife to get dressed to go out.
“Anticipation,”
Carly Simon. “Making me wait.”
“Sooner
or Later,” the Grass Roots, but I do not agree with the inevitability implied.
“Stranded,”
Van Morrison. He sounds cheerfully resigned.
“You
Can’t Hurry Love,” the Supremes. Painfully accurate.
“Time
the Conqueror,” Jackson Browne. Among the conquered are all of us.
“The
Waiting,” Tom Petty. Yes, it’s the hardest part, just as he says.
Plenty of other songs describe aspects of this universal experience, John Mayer’s “Waiting for the World to Change” and “I’ll Be Waiting” by Adele among them. Like the writers of those songs, I’m tired of watching the world take so long to change; of friendships and relationships progressing at what feels like such a slothful pace.
It’s possible to make quite a playlist but instead of taking the time to do so I declare myself ready for all these waits to be done.
Because,
as Mick and Keith say in another Stones song, “Time waits for no one/And it
won’t wait for me.”
