I am very patient, except for in specific circumstances.

I can sit in a queue of traffic, patiently allowing other drivers to join or switch lanes when others are banging their head on the steering wheel or honking their horn. What’s the hurry, we’re not going anywhere and there’s nothing we can do about it. (Okay well, honestly, I do freak out about this on the odd occassion but only if I have to be somewhere really, really important, like the pub a hospital appointment or someone’s ill, or somesuch.)

I can stand in line for hours, if neccessary, while others are huffing, puffing and shouting and swearing at anyone who looks like they might be vaguely connected with whoever is running the place. Like, say, a cleaner.

I’ve mastered the art of supermarket shopping without having a nervous breakdown, calmly allowing all those shoppers who are clearly much busier than I am and need to get their shopping done as quickly as possible, albeit at the expense of some old lady’s ankles, to push in front of me with their weapons of mass destrustion shopping trolleys.

There’s just one thing I can’t stand. It churns me up inside! I hate knowing that some kind of surprise is going to occur but not yet and I have to wait. I am SO impatient. I hate waiting for Christmas presents. I generally try and force torture persuade hubster to give me my Christmas present as soon as he buys it, or at least tell me what it is. If ever you’re planning me a surprise party (I’m forty next year, by the way, so yep, would be nice, eh?) you’d better make sure you give me no hint or inclination because I will just beat hound you until I have full details so that I may prepare.

One of my twitter friends has been tweeting a countdown this week, and I am finding it very hard not to nag, jump up and down or throw a tantrum in order to find out what it is. Whatever she’s up to, it’s probably not going to drastically impact upon my daily life but it’s been eating at me all week! What is she up to? Why don’t I know about it??!! 

Yeah. Control freak!? Me?! 😉

About Sas Taylor

Yorkshire lass in Brum | wife | mother | homebased zoo keeper | ex-nurse | wonky thinker | photographer | macro iPhoneographer | that there @b31blog thing

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