I’m going to admit to one of my fatal flaws. Impatience. I don’t like waiting for things. I especially don’t like being stagnant waiting for things. If I have to wait, I’d much rather have something to do so that I don’t think about whatever it is I’m waiting for. I just hate it, and I know that I hate it, and I suppose someday I’ll have to learn how to be patient in all aspects of my life, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to enjoy it.
For example, I was waiting in the airport last week to fly home. Well, to fly back to where I live. I guess you could call it home. That’s besides the point, so I get to the airport 90 minutes before my flight is supposed to leave. That’s pretty standard. They starting board 20-30 minutes before the departure time, and you want to make sure you get through the massive amounts of people who are checking their luggage (which now costs money?!?!?) and then go through security, so 90 minutes is totally legit. I get to the airport, get checked in, go through security, get stopped by security because I have a laptop in my bag and apparently that’s a bad thing, get through security, grab a cup of hot chocolate, find my terminal and sit down. All good so far. Well, the boarding time which is oh-so-clearly printed on the boarding ticket rolls around and there is no indication from the airline employees that we’ll start boarding the plane. Departure time rolls around, and still nothing. I’m getting a little irritated at this point because they should at LEAST say something to the full-plane’s-worth of people sitting in the terminal. About 20 minutes after the original scheduled departure time, the attendant at the desk tells us there is an electrical problem, and that we won’t be able to fly until they get it resolved. She also includes that she has no idea when that will be, she’s sorry for our wait, and please will we not wander too far away in case they fix it and start boarding.
Great, so I’m sitting in the terminal for an indefinite amount of time for an undetermined reason. This is really awesome. I start to read. Other people around me (like this SUPER annoying lady and her family) start to get agitated and keep going up to the desk to see what the status of the flight is or if they can get on another flight. I was surprisingly calm. Not pleased with the situation, but I knew that I’d rather be safe flying than take off with an unspecified problem and crash somewhere over New Mexico where they would never find our bodies. I read, and 100 pages later (which isn’t really an indication of time because normally I’m a fast reader, but I’m having a hard time with this particular book, so it’s taking me longer to read it), we still hadn’t boarded. 3 hours go by, and it’s beginning to look like I should just leave the airport and walk home. It would probably be faster. BUT. . . they decide to let us board the plane, which seems like a miracle after sitting in the terminal for ages. We get on the plane, prepare for take off, and taxi on the runway for AN HOUR. Luckily, the flight wasn’t full any more, and I wasn’t sitting next to anyone, so I curled up on the seat and tried to fall asleep. But seriously 4 hours later we were in the air.
This is all well and good for the story. We finally take off. But so many people (including myself) had a connecting flight in Dallas that we missed due to this “unidentified electrical error.” So in Dallas I have to try to get my flight switched. Luckily, the lady on the other end of the rebooking phone was super nice and efficient. She got me on another flight, apologized about my delay, told me where the gate was, and assured me that I would arrive at my final destination by the end of the evening (which is good because I REALLY didn’t want to pay for a hotel). I only had to stay in Dallas for 75 minutes, tops. I truly was grateful that there was another flight that left so soon. So I finally get home, wait around for my baggage, and then get to leave the airport and go home. All in all, I left the house at 9 am that morning, and got home at 1:15 am the next morning (if you figure the time zone difference, I actually got home at 11:15 pm, but that would have meant that I left at 7 am). But I was “en route” for 14 hours. That makes for a pretty long day when you were only figuring to be traveling for 5 hours max.
I think the lesson I was supposed to learn was patience. Like I said, I was surprisingly calm. I didn’t pace, or get angry with anyone. I didn’t even yell at super-annoying-lady who wanted the airline to fly her straight to LA because she had a delay. Ha, like that’s going to happen. Nope, I was calm. I had the resigned air of someone who knows that fate is against her on that particular day and doesn’t have the energy to fight it.
But my point is, although writing this experience out has been vexing, and making me irritated at my experience all over again, it’s important to be patient, which I am not. I hate finishing up all my tasks at work and having to wait for the next manager to come in so I can leave. In fact, the other night, I literally sat by the door, keys in hand so that I could walk out when he got there. I seriously was done with the place and needed to be gone. But I had to wait. I hate waiting for people to call when they say they will, and then they don’t. I hate waiting around for people to reach the same conclusions I’ve already come to, and then we can start doing something now that we’re all on the same page. I just really don’t like waiting.
Maybe part of the problem is our fast-paced, instant gratification society. We have all kinds of short-cuts to make things go faster, more efficiently, easier. That’s not what I want to talk about though. I just need to talk about the fact that I am super impatient and I know it’s flaw that will bring about much unhappiness in my life if I don’t learn how to relax and be, well, patient. I’m trying, I really am. Admittance is the first step to solving the problem. I just wish it didn’t take so long!