Impatience

I used to think I was a very patient person, always steeped in a sort of Zen Buddhist serenity, unphased by anything. But it ain't true, I'm actually very impatient about a lot of things.

I'm particularly impatient about having to wait for service. If I'm in a phone queue, or a cashdesk queue, or a bus queue, I get very exasperated. It's wasted time I can't use for anything else (unless I happen to have a book with me). Why can't they just employ more staff, provide more buses, speed up a bit?

I know it's not good for my blood pressure. I know I should be more philosophical about things I can't control. I know those concerned are probably doing their best under pressure. But something gets stirred up and irritation takes over.

I also get impatient (or more likely steaming mad) with people who do things wrong. I don't mean minor mistakes like burning the toast. I mean major things like delivering the wrong furniture or charging me twice for something. Why can't they simply check the details properly and take a bit more care? As someone who habitually double checks and makes sure I've "got it right", I don't understand such sloppiness.

But in other ways I have infinite, bottomless patience. Being pretty unconventional myself, I'm very sympathetic to other people's oddities - their strange quirks of behaviour, their outlandish opinions, their eccentric clothing. I'm always curious about why they do what they do, why they think in a certain way, why they defy the usual social norms. I have a huge appetite for human diversity and variety, it's what makes life so fascinating.

And of course I have plenty of patience for my partner, for her myriad little habits and peculiarities, all of which I find endlessly endearing and lovable. Well, I've got to say that, haven't I?