a case of the "what ifs"
because waiting is an energy-suck
Why doesn’t anyone talk about how much energy it takes for us to sit around and wait? Waiting rooms drain my energy. Waiting in line at the post office is draining. Waiting for my tacos to arrive is draining. All that built-up anxiety and nervous anticipation sometimes takes more energy than the task itself.
For all my privilege and access, waiting still exhausts me.
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When people ask me how I’m doing lately, I tell them I am waiting. Truthfully, big life transitions are up in the air, out of my control, and I am being asked to be patient. I’m graduating from graduate school into a terrible job market; I’m trying to take bigger steps in my writing career; I’m trying to build more of a freelance business or maybe find full-time work. But many things hang in the balance and I’m stuck staring at them all, hoping something will come from all of this nothing.
Look. I’m not patient. I never was. And I haven’t gotten any better over a year in quarantine. This past winter was excruciating. The weeks until my second dose of the vaccine feel extremely long, even if I’m lucky to have had a dose to begin with.
I want sunshine and warmth and answers and a path forward.
I’m desperately waiting, wanting life to start again in some way, shape, or form.
Without direction, all I have is a case of the “what ifs.” What if my freelance work dries up or never picks up? What if the COVID variants are worse than we all expect? What if all of my writing and teaching and working and time/money spent on building a career come to nothing? What if this is as far as I go as a writer? What if I don’t want to return to in-person office life? What if I never want a long commute again? What if I need to leave NYC because that real estate bubble I long for never happens because there will always be more money than is rational investing in empty apartments?
What if I never stop “what if”-ing?
Listen. If catastrophizing was an Olympic sport, I’d be a Simone Biles-level champion. I could “what if” until the end of time. But when I start to “what if,” it’s next to impossible to stop. And that spiral takes up more energy than I care to admit.
Waiting is so universally frustrating that it is the stuff of songs. I looked up “waiting” playlists on Spotify and aside from the plethora of “Doctor’s Office Waiting Room” playlists, there are so many sad and anxious ones related to waiting: “Waiting on a Star to Fall,” “i will be waiting,” “Waiting for Spring,” “Waiting for Summer,” “Waiting all Night,” and, most notably “waiting for a text back” (with the accompanying image of a sad kitty).
I guess this is all to say that: I’m burned out and on the precipice of any number of things. My impatience for answers and stability (it’s a lot to ask, I know) is bringing out the worst in me. I’m grumpy, I’m worried, I’m on edge, and I’m tired.
I’ve decided that waiting is work because it’s a labor in and of itself. And idk about you, but I need a break from the labor of waiting. Indeed, I hope wherever you are or whatever you’re going, you don’t have to wait too much longer.
If you want to help me curate my own antsy, anxious waiting playlist, be sure to add your suggestions in the comments. <3
PS I wrote a book review for The Adroit Journal—check it out here if you’re interested!