I think I spend my life waiting. I'm waiting for my final grade (event planning class, Raritan Valley Community College) to be posted online. I'm waiting until May 31st when I'm taking a long weekend at Disney World (the annual Gay Day event). After that, I'm waiting until July 3rd for the Mensa AG in Birmingham, AL. I'm waiting to get motivated so that, this year, the new outside doors go on the house, and the new front stoop railings get installed, and the sun room windows (all 10 of them) get replaced, and the grandfather clock gets repaired (it hasn't chimed in close to a year now), and the mattress gets replaced (o TempurPedic, how I long for thee), and the TV gets replaced (which means replacing the furniture wherein the old TV resides).

I wait for Bill-the-Honeybear 99% of the time because, even when we agree on a time to leave for something, he's never ready by that time. I wait for him to become my partner and not my dependent. I wait for him to stop acting as though he were still a 20-year-old and start acting a little more like the 48-year-old he is...just a little.

I wait for the news that I no longer have a job.

I wait for the day when there will be that one clear, clarifying realization that yes, I am an adult. I wait for recognition of that fact by others.

I wait for usefulness.

I wait for the day when the support I get is not moral or emotional, but physical and/or monetary.

I wait until I am tired of waiting. Then I wait some more, thinking these feelings will pass.

My life is spent waiting. I'm tired of the expense.