Many businesses are closed today. Schools are playing it safe, too. After all, just one year ago Atlanta was inundated with a winter storm that snarled traffic literally for “days” and the Governor (and other officials) were given a sound verbal thrashing by stranded citizens and parents of school children who had to spend untold hours on their school buses.
So today, they are playing it close to the chest (so to speak). “It’s coming,” they say. But the forecast is changing slightly. Now it looks like more rain than anything else. And it may come later than expected.
And I am home, too; the job I was supposed to go to today was canceled late last night. Of course, there are always things to do. But . . . I am still left in somewhat of a holding pattern – like a jet airplane waiting its turn to land or on a runway waiting in a long line of planes for take off.
Waiting disrupts everything.
And in the end you want the waiting to have been worth something, don’t you? Almost to the extent that even if you are waiting on another Snowmageddon or Snowpocalypse (as some termed it last year) you find yourself disappointed if it does not occur. Then we accost the meteorologists, deriding their computerized weather models, and vowing never to trust them again. At least . . . until the next time a weather disaster is predicted.
Instead of being glad we were made safe, and no weather disaster occurred, we are angry that our normal way of life was disrupted “for nothing” (as we put it).
We cannot be pleased, can we? We border on insufferable with our attitudes sometimes.
Nevertheless, it is interesting to me how life patterns become so ingrained in us that change to them leaves us in a state of confusion. It becomes hard to order the day because our normal routine has been upset; the things we normally do as a matter of course are not done, and it is as if the absence of those habitual procedures leave us stranded and without a compass.
We manufacture our own personal Snowmageddon sans the snow. We leave our vehicles in the middle of the interstate highway of our lives, and begin to walk . . . rather, trudge through unfamiliar terrain. It is cold, bleak, and disturbing to us.
Give me routine.
I know some folks seem to thrive on the unpredictable, and for them the more uncharted the day – the better! I am not one of those persons.
And I am not ashamed of that!
I dare say that waiting is not in anyone’s hip pocket. As I mentioned in the previous blog article, it is hard for all of us. Clearly, there are lessons to be learned as we wait (if only we will learn them), and we can train ourselves to be more adaptable to altered life situations. And I promise to work on this skill if only . . . if only you would go ahead and give me back my routine (for goodness sake)!
So, here I sit. Here I wait. I thought I could at least write about it as the time passes.
In another hour or two the cold rain will likely begin, followed in the wee hours of the morning by some snowfall (or so they say). Temperatures will hover around freezing in the early morning, then give way to milder temperatures that should melt anything that has accumulated up to that time. So, tomorrow promises to be a bit closer to normal.
But today’s apple cart has been upset. No doubt, the news tonight will be filled with comments of disgruntled persons who will say that officials should have better predicted the weather and given us another normal day of commerce. No matter! Remember, we can’t be pleased.
Soon, my routine will return. And I will probably find that I long for something . . . (you guessed it) . . . unpredictable to occur!