Tapestries, Wishes of Man
The budget crisis in New Jersey is very serious, much more serious than people who say "Cut my taxes" acknowledge. I am waiting for a phone call from one of the university's vendors and I'm going to talk him out of $4000. I've got the facts on my side. I've got the desire to get him to agree, and he will. What I don't got is the patience to wait another hour for this phone call. I have an attention span too short to ride this Tilt-A-Whirl. An hour ago, I'd been waiting half an hour but I couldn't wait any longer to go - shall we say - powder my nose. I stood in the middle of the office and issued an order: I'm going to the bathroom. If my phone rings, answer it and sing Feelings until I get back.
While I wait for the court date to establish whether or not I'm evicted, which no one seems to believe I will be, while I wait for summer to end, for the students to return, for the month thousands of newcomers drive wrong ways on New Brunswick's one-way streets, for even skillful blogging to make sense in a world where people say about bombing civilians "That's just the way it is," I wonder what I'm really waiting for. Am I waiting for a companion soul? For the real estate bubble to burst? For a two-for-one frozen duck sale at Pathmark? - Because that will never happen, but I think that about many things people generally anticipate.
Life has returned to the way it was last spring, only with greater humidity and pointlessness. I need a new reason to live, if only to learn some patience.