My patience is so overpowering that I’ve won a staring-contest with a statue.
Well, that’s not one hundred percent true...
For me, patience is a learned attribute, and I work a job that places a premium on patience.
Here’s a mathematical equation that I just came up with, and I’m totally the first person ever to do so:
The first thing to come of working too much is fatigue; the first thing to go once you’re fatigued is patience.
I’ve been working too much; fortunately for me, cracking up from too-heavy a workload manifests itself in giggle-fits.
Y’know those half-hour, monumental laughing-spasms that leave you prostrate and vibrating on the ground, pounding your fist into the floor in a vain attempt to expel your overabundance of tittering energy?
Those almost-embarrassing meltdowns that prod those around you into laughing as well because laughter is contagious, and you’re a complete toolbox who can’t control yourself?
Yeah.
That’s all well & good, but the somewhat-unfortunate next step, reaching into extreme-fatigue territory, is an unflinching, unapologetic honesty...the kind of shoot-off-mouth-first, think second approach that forces you to tell someone, after you’ve already spent ten minutes waiting behind them in a coffee-house line only to wait ANOTHER three minutes for them to decide on a singular black coffee once they’ve reached what should have been the pinnacle of their wait, that they should be castrated and never allowed to procreate lest they release more dough-headed, simple-minded Satan-spawn into this already overcrowded universe...
Where you would ALMOST regret what you said but for the fact that, upon second look, they deserved every word of your spite...
That’s where I’m at, and now I’m out of fucking coffee.
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