Wednesday, December 19, 2007
And I would be too, but it depends on the bag. If it's from Anthropologie or Ann Taylor, I'm on the doorstep. If it's from the diaper pail, it's on the doorstep. So, what kind of bag are we really talking about here. Does this mean he got left holding the bag? And wasn't that supposed to be a bad thing at one time? So, then if everyone is waiting for the man with the bag, why did they leave him holding it in the first place? They should've just gone out, paid the waiter, or whoever it was that needs the bag, and then the waiting would be over. See, what good is it to give someone a bag to hold, leave them there, then wait. Go get it yourself! It'll be faster. I hate waiting. And, yet, it is one of life's eternal lessons that really turns into a lecture from the dark side that you wish you could just skip out of, but you already came to class, and now you're stuck listening to a lecture on patience that you've heard umpteen million times before, and it really isn't doing any good but to make you more impatient to get the lecture or lesson over with. And even when you have learned the lesson, it still shows up, reminding you that the waiting game never ends. You will be forever stuck in the perpetual patient zone, lessons learned or not, waiting for a man with a bag, whose bag it is or what is in it we don't really know, unless we take it. But this bag scenario, the man with it anyway, he's really just a hypothetical type, who in reality has already left us, waiting, (while he is happily in fiction-ville), to decide what goes in the bag, then acquire the contents of the bag, then distribute the contents to the rightful recipients. Talk about delegation. Good plan. And we take that delegated role, year after year, and happy to do it (myself included), and perpetuate the wait over and over again. And since I really did all the work, why does the man with the bag get all the credit? Oh wait, (I hate waiting), looks like we really got left holding the bag.