Sing it, Miss Jackson

I'm waiting for a phone call. I can't make the call myself. I can't wheedle, cry or manipulate the call into happening. All I can do is wait. Wait. Tom Petty was right. It is the hardest part.

I have a very hard time with myself when people don't do the things I want when I want them to be done. Fortunately, most of the time, I don't care. Most things aren't that important to me. I don't care how much broth goes into the chicken chili. Well, not until you try to tell me how much, at which point I may attempt to stab you with a large knife. I don't care where I go out to dinner. I don't care what kind of beer arrives at my house when people bring it with them. I don't care what football game is on. Or what movie I go to. Or when the back bedroom gets painted.

But when it is something I want. Something I really, really want? I cannot stand being able not to control it. Like with this phone call. I want the phone call bad. Bad. Really, really bad. But I can't do anything about it. Because, in trying to manipulate the call into happening, I could ruin it. So I have to step away and let it happen on its own. If it'll happen at all. If it does, I'm ready for the next step. If it doesn't, I've already screwed the pooch.

So, instead of trying to control the minds of others, I come here and vent about my frustration. Venting is to keep me from making the call myself. And that could be disasterous.

Remember that, self. Don't second guess. Don't obsess. Don't call.