I hate the feeling of waiting for someone to arrive. Today, it’s a cable guy. Not because I need the cable guy, by the way, but because someone in my building is having trouble with his connection. This happens pretty regularly, they send someone around, they never find the problem, rinse and repeat.
It’s that rise of tension, waiting to hear a knock at the door, sure it will startle me anyway, even though I’m expecting it. It’s the anticipation of the interruption of what I’m doing, of my train of thought. It’s the fear that the thin filament made of inspiration and motivation will snap.
It’s the reality that I don’t like my space invaded by strangers, even friendly strangers. And the knowing it will happen anyway. And the not knowing exactly when.
I hope they’re finished soon.