Just because I feel impatience doesn’t mean I’m unable to wait. It just means I don’t want to. I’ve waited a lifetime for some things, only to have the realization be far too brief. Certainly no where near the time I’ve put into the desire. Which leads me to question if good things actually do come to those who wait. From this seat, and I retain the right to move to the leather sofa, I’m thinking it’s not that good things come, it’s the quenching of that insatiable, god-awful impatience which tricks us into thinking what we were waiting for is actually good for us. I’m still waiting, meditating on the crunch of the carrots, knowing deep that what’s coming will be…