Waiting… and Waiting

I’m sitting at Children’s Hospital, waiting for Amanda to pick me up.  She insisted, even though I’m perfectly capable of riding a bus on my own.

I have to admit to being lucky enough to have someone in my life that cares enough to nitpick on me and worry about me when I’m clearly too stupid or proud to do so myself.

I’m much better at worrying about others than worrying about myself.  I always have been.  Obviously it’s a mixture of the way I was raised, my experiences with my unique situation, and eventually cognitively-aware personal choices.

It’s really coming down out there, or so it looks like.  Comforts me to know that I won’t have to trudge about in the rain.  Or have to deal with a cabbie again.  (Which is what I took to get to Children’s this evening, and that was a godawful nightmare – mostly because he was a good twenty-five minutes late.)

I have yet to take my picture for the day, so when I get home I’ll get on that.  Always stuff to do.

I’m not good at waiting.

~ by nonfinis on January 11, 2008.