I am not a good patient.

Dear God,

I think, think, you are calling me into what—patience? I don’t like it, but I accept it for today.

So, I will not act and not write about it further. It makes me something: not sad, not at all mad, not upset. Maybe melancholy, but mostly just impatient. Ugh.

Oh well, That is all until this evening. And then, I will get back with you . . .