I like to think of myself as someone who has limitless patience. Old lady digging through her purse while I'm ringing her out trying to find the exact amount of change using the smallest denomination of coins possible? I can handle that. Kids at the school refuse to take quizzes until all of the glitter which has contaminated the entire room is off the page, requiring me to coax him into believing that the glitter will not harm his score? Bring it on. But right now?
No.
You're taking too long to answer my question, I'm going to fire another, more challenging one your direction. It's too hot in my room, I'm going to plug in five fans and sit on a block of ice (or move somewhere with snow. Right now.) You're hogging sink time for .5 seconds beyond your allotted amount, you best believe I'll be shoving you on the ground. (I'm not really that violent. Or that crazed about sink times. Who really does that? Ah, yeah, Billy, you've been standing at the sink for .738 seconds too long. We're going to have to deduct .293 seconds off of your sink time for tonight. Sorry bout your luck, Billy.)
Surprisingly, my patience was not running thin at my sister's two-hour long awards ceremony this evening. But as soon as we made it home, the toilet wasn't flushing fast enough, my water wasn't filling my glass quick enough, the oil on my face wasn't secreting in near the amounts that it should (also a lie. It's doing quite a splendid job at that right now...) I'm not reading my homework as quickly as I would like. The goats aren't catching me properly to break my fainting-fall.
All I want is to go running without having to go running. Does that make sense? I think it does.
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