Patience patience patience

It’s a good thing I don’t own a time machine. I’d be a menace. Patience may be a virtue, but, like a love for all things retarded, it is not a virtue I possess. A friend of mine had been sick as a dog for weeks (despite being told that she’s “healthy as a horse”) and she is suffering through it with grace. I sniffle and I can’t wait for it to be over. At the end of the month, I’ll be blowing my paycheque on a new digital SLR, a new 1TB external hard drive, and new headphones for my iPod. This, however, is better than the suit of armour I was originally considering. I want them now.

Two months from now I’ll be flying to Toronto to see my sister and visit the Dead Sea Scrolls and King Tut exhibits. I’ll also be attending a taping of The Hour, and visiting with an old friend in Mississauga. It needs to be November 28 tomorrow.

Linear existence sucks. And I am seriously considering pouting until I have Anthony Bourdain’s job.



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