Patience escapes me like fireflies at dusk. It appears to be within my grasp, but remains forever out of reach. Sometimes I think I don’t try hard enough to master this art of waiting.

But at 52, I now believe that perhaps patience is as outdated as typewriters, white gloves, and those spiffy little teatime pillbox hats. I also think I just need to get over it. I never had it, never will get it, and at this point in my life, don’t want it.

My current struggle with this character defect stems from the launching of my book. I dutifully sent some nifty little promo packages to 40 or so people who I believed might be receptive. I figured all I need is one big break. (And yes, I sent one to Oprah and her friend Gayle. Come on, don’t be such a dream hata.)

So after stimulating the economy by shelling out a few hundred bucks to send my packages from sea to shining sea, I now must wait. And wait. And wait. And wait. OK, so it’s only been one week, but like I said, patience escapes me. I just don’t do wait well. 

My friends tell me to calm down and be patient, but that just sends me to the emergency chocolate drawer. At the rate I’m going, I’ll need lap band surgery by the end of next week.

So now instead of trying to work on being patient, I’ve decided it’s OK to harrumph at everything that requires patience – waiting in line, waiting on the phone, waiting to catch a plane, waiting in any office anywhere at any time. Harrumph, harrumph, harrumph.

You see “Searching for Patience” will not find its way onto my bucket list. No siree, Missy. And who would want a bucket list like that anyway? That would be like putting “Searching for Ninnyhammers” on your list of things to do before you die. So that little epiphany got me to thinking about other things that belong on my Bucket-less List. So here we go…

Richie’s Top 5 Bucket-Less List

No. 5: Being athletic. I will never, ever like to run. Trainers say it’s all about learning to run correctly. I say I never liked to run even when I was young, so why start now? And at 52 years old, I also will forever throw a ball “like a girl.” I will never be able to do a basketball layup shot or hit a golf ball or bowl for that matter.

Article Author: Carol Richtsmeier

Carol Richtsmeier teaches journalism at a public high school in Texas where her students and publications have won numerous local, state and national awards. She chronicles her teaching escapades in her blog at mybellringers.blogspot.com. …

Visit Carol Richtsmeier's author page — Carol Richtsmeier's Blog