As all who know me know, waiting is one of my least favorite things to do. I like being busy, I like getting things done, I like moving forward and progress. But all good things must come to wait. Once I have done my part; my writing, contributing, collaborating, I must send my pages out into the world to their respective bosses and...wait.
It's amazing how waiting can also make me wistful. I find myself pining for things that I could be doing in my 'down-time', and that usually leads to dreaming of house reno-ing, or traveling, and then invariably I am frustrated that I am not doing either of those fabulous, but not so affordable things and then I feel badly that I haven't earned more/done more/made more...which always brings be back to thinking of what else I could be doing to keep moving forward.
It can be a vicious cycle, and in my case an old story of what came first the work or the workaholic? The need or the drive? This spring I am already thinking ahead to the summer, when the waiting gets really bad, and have vowed to give myself a big fat project that I will work on with patience and diligence and care. Something that can not be rushed or judged for speed... a new novel.
In the meantime, I will organize and bake and plan, and try to fill in the waiting time, with dreaming of new ideas time as well.
Wish me luck!