I suppose this blog would be a little more exciting if I were actually doing something other than waiting. Waiting waiting waiting. That is the story of my life. I truly am a lady in waiting. Though, we could argue that the term "lady" doesn't really suit me. Whatever. You get my point.
This is good waiting, though. Happy waiting almost. Well, perhaps that's pushing it a bit. I'm waiting on a deal to come through that will officially christen my career and afford me the opportunity to afford to go out and do stuff. High on the list, as you might have noted, is to move. As I type this, next door, Boomer is cracking himself up while Clompy is slamming things shut. They say good fences make good neighbors; I vote for thicker walls. I live in a duplex. Is one soundproof wall too much to ask? Whatever. I'm waving the white flag here. I'm ready to go. Once the deal goes through. And so I wait.
After I move, or right before, I'm going to treat myself to Dublin via New York. Use that not-used ticket I bought that is nearly worthless now. I don't care. I need a vacay. One that involves a passport. Which reminds me, I've got to get that renewed. I've been waiting to do that until my hair gets to the point that I don't hate it and can tolerate looking at it for ten years. It's not quite there yet. Do you think they'd let me where a wig in that mug shot?
I suppose I could find other things to do but, honestly, I can't focus long enough to come up with anything worthwhile. All I want is that phone call or email signaling victory and a chance for us to move forward. You see, it's not just me that's waiting. Which is kind of nice. I suppose the stymied love company, too.