patience

Those who know me will say that I’m sometimes a patient person and sometimes not, but more often than not I am willing to wait when it comes to allowing others to do their job. I had to go to the Post Office this morning to send off a half.com purchase and the line was long at 7:45. The office has posted hours of opening at 8am, so I wasn’t overly concerned since it’s more or less a bonus that the woman at the counter was even willing to open early. But the woman standing in line in front of me looked like she was about to have a seizure. She was fidgeting and sighing and grumbling at “how slow” the woman was dealing with customers. Now I’ve seen some of what they do at the Post Office and keeping track of all the rules is a skill in itself. I was more than content to smile and wait as I usually do since I figure high-stress workers can use all the good vibes they can handle. This woman turns to me and says, “Can you believe this?” As if I will join her in come kind of conspiratorial revolt or coup. I just ignored her and waited behind her. And the kicker, this woman who was in such a hurry to get out of there pulls out five, count them — 5, packages to be sent off and each one had something special about it. It took her longer to get served than the four people ahead of her.

Things like this make me strive so hard not to act like/be a queen all the time, ‘cos I really don’t feel that the world revolves around me and my needs and I’m none too fond of people that do. I try to maintain my own personal space and take care of my needs on my own, sure, but as much as Shawn and I joke about things “being all about me/you/us”, they so aren’t. And sure I suppose if you’re young enough, cute enough, rich enough or manipulative enough, then you can go through life arranging your world like characters out of some real life “Dangerous Liaisons” but that’s not for me.