Tuesday, 26 November 2013

The Waiting Place

I like to relate my life to a few key concepts; Twin Peaks episodes, Friends episodes, Oh the Places You'll Go (it isn't popular in Ireland, I only found out about it about two years ago) or The Office (the UK version). Now is one of those Dr. Seuss moments.

I'm at a stage, for a few weeks now, where I'm in The Waiting Place. In case you are not blessed enough to know the story, here is the most saddest part:

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked.
A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?

And IF you go in, should you turn left or right...
or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

You can get so confused
that you'll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles cross weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place...

...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or the waiting around for a Yes or No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for the wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.

I'm not exaggerating when I say that, as a 24 year old, I tear up every time I read this part of the story. It's the most terribly lonely few paragraphs ever written for a children's book.

The idea of just waiting terrifies me. I want to be active, doing things, achieving, and adding value.

I've booked a flight back to Copenhagen (New Years Eve!!) and I'm in the process of getting a job for the month of December that will fill a good deal of my time, but the last few days have been full of disillusionment. Sometimes things just take so much longer than they're supposed to.

Because I didn't pass my driving test on a technicality (hey, everyone fails the first time, right? I've only been having lessons for 2 months) I have to wait until mid-December to re-take, and Leo leaves Copenhagen for Christmas around the same time, so I'm just sitting it out patiently.

I'm looking forward to the holiday season, making gingerbread, decorating my gingerbread house, making Christmas jumpers and seeing old friends. But I'm also dying to get on with the next stage of the game. I'm all but finished up with my internship now, and I need time-filling fun, pronto.

I've been jogging, swimming, reading a lot, baking and hanging out with my friends, but I'm stuck in this inbetween time, and I'm ready to fly away at last.

I want to feel light and breezy, like this guy.

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