The Arc of Anticipation

Patience is not my virtue of choice.

Most conversations, movies and

lines of any kind

are too long.

To this point,

lately, I’ve been noticing

the arc of anticipation.

I’m going to France today.

It’s a sort of business trip that has been

planned for two years.

For me, that arc ended

about 18 months ago.

Since then, I’ve grown tired of

people asking about it,

tired of talking about it

and especially tired of

thinking of my life

in terms of when I get back.

Or, as Barry says, “afta”.

As in: Afta my trip…

…I’ll get my dog trained,

…get serious about my workouts,

…start thinking about my upcoming move.

(another arc that has overstayed its welcome)

There’s a sweet spot in there—

some where between instant gratification

and never mind—

that I would like to try harder to hit.

My friend avoids eHarmony

for the same reason.

Their exhaustive vetting process,

she says, kills anticipation.

I like having plans.

I like knowing what I’m doing

next weekend.

But, that’s about it.

The trip will be great.

Lots to look forward to.

And the best part is,

I’m already looking forward—

with appropriately timed anticipation—

to returning home.

Expect the Worst

I Hate Halloween