Instant Life

Hello, blog!

I was sitting at a coffee shop the other day, feeling independent, adult-like and sophisticated having ordered my extra hot latte on an extra hot and sunny day, sporting sunglasses and serenaded by sweet, Summer tunes through my headphones.

Then, fifteen minutes passed. I began to look around and, needing caffeine in my bloodstream, began to shake a little. Across the way I noticed a couple of friends who were just served their drinks and items they ordered.
"I got here before them... Why are they being served before me? It's been at least fifteen minutes... Where is my coffee?" Questions pulsed through my mind as the clock steadily climbed the ladder of time: twenty minutes... thirty, thirty-five, forty minutes...

I was off, and took my business to Esquires.

On reflection, this could have gone better. Fed up with taking too long, I had already paid for my luxurious coffee, yet rather than enquire at the counter (I had already asked a waitress) during the mad coffee-break rush, I took forty-five minutes of waiting, thinking as each minute passed, "Maybe this one is mine... Maybe it will come now... Maybe it is my turn..." Until, BAM: it became much too long to wait.

What's interesting is that depending on where you are, it seems to determine your tolerance (or intolerance) for waiting. Waiting at DisneyLand for Space Mountain: one hour seems reasonable, if not more. Waiting for a fancy meal at a five-star restaurant... forty-five minutes becomes reasonable. Now, following unpleasant tasks is a sharp decline in waiting time. To return an item, to complain about a cold plate of fries, to wait in the waiting room to see the doctor...

Instant food, instant music, instant movies, even instant bodies! Add item to cart. Proceed to checkout. Install. Download. It seems we've become so comfortable with our life of things being instant, that now we almost expect everything to be. Please, wake me up on the day that 'Life' comes in resealable bag available at every Pharmacy, grocery store and gas station.

Instead I would rather focus on instant forgiveness, instant gratitude, instant service.

If it means living, I prefer waiting.

Until next time, blog.
Much love,
H.